


Moxley

by ThatWrestlingFanWrites



Series: Absolution [1]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Multi, Vigilantism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2020-02-28 04:22:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18748942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatWrestlingFanWrites/pseuds/ThatWrestlingFanWrites
Summary: Vigilante AU: Dean Ambrose is a normal car mechanic by day, but at night, when he dawns his signature mask, he is a lawless vigilant known as Jon Moxley. Will his work alone stop the evil in Titan City, or will the resurfacing of an old crime syndicate prove to be too much for even Moxley to handle?





	1. New Sheriff in Town

Titan City, best known for its heavens-reaching sky scrapers and seven time Super Bowl champions professional football team, housed over five hundred thousand people inside the city limits alone. The grand metropolis prided itself on its reputation as one of the best cities in America, because it was... on the surface.

Behind all the glitz and glamour many of the bigger cities have, Titan City has a major problem with the increasing rate of crime in the areas with increased poverty throughout the city: Petty thieves broke into locally owned shops everyday. Many drug dealings occurred in broad daylight. Several murder cases remain unsolved even to this day, simply because the police do not have the resources to keep up with everything that's happening from day to day.

Crime rate was at an all time high, but the media was mostly focused on football and chili contests and the grand openings of new skyscrapers.

Titan City was in dire need of someone's help.

* * *

Bare feet thudded hard against the sleek blacktop. The rain came down hard in a blinding flurry, making it near impossible to see where she was going. Two more pairs of sprinting feet were hot on her heels. She needed to get out of harm's reach and fast, or she was as good as dead. Her heels flew off the second she decided running was her only chance at survival. Her feet ached an unimaginable agony with every hard step she took. But she knew she had to get away.

The woman, blonde hair soaked from the falling water all around her, took a sharp turn into an alley she was sure led to a better lit part of the area.

She was wrong.

Her breath died in her throat the minute she realized she may have just made a fatal mistake. Instead of a bright and busy city street, she came face to face with a brick wall.

"Come on, sweetheart."

"Yeah, we don't bite... That much."

The woman shook with fear from her attacker's taunts. How she ended up here, or what wrong turn she may have made, she didn't know. She didn't see herself dying in an alleyway because a couple of street thugs wanted her purse. She pictured herself surrounded by loved ones while she lay waiting for her time far into her nineties. Twenty-eight was not the age she though she would see the end of the line.

One of the thugs, the taller one, pinned the woman against the wall. He disgustingly dragged his tongue up the side of her face and into her hair. The woman gagged, though she knew vomiting would leave her to die with less dignity than she already lost.

"I'm gonna have fun with you," the man growled in the woman's ear. "Get a little taste before I cut your pretty throat."

The woman threw her head back. "SOMEBODY HELP ME!" She cried desperately. The thug threw a hard fist into the side of her head, but she prayed the call grabbed somebody's attention.

"What the fuck?" The other thug screamed. A gunshot rang out, then the clear signs of a struggle just outside the streetlights illumination.

The second thug let the woman go and drew his weapon. The woman covered her ears as he let a few shots off into the darkness. A sudden thud of rubber sneakers scrapping against the slick pavement made the thug turn in the direction it came and unload his clip.

"Mikey, what the fuck?" The thug called.

Suddenly, the other thug emerged from the shadows. The woman took note of his odd stature; His head was limp to one side and he moved as if his feet didn't work. Then, causing the woman's attacker to scream, his friend crumpled to the ground to reveal he was being propped up and dragged by a third man that the woman hadn't seen before. The woman felt a wave of fear, and a little relief, when she noticed the instantly identifiable mask he wore over the lower half of his face.

The second thug rushed forward. The masked man dodged left, using the thug's own momentum against him and shoving him into the wall. The mask grabbed the thug by the back of his head, pulled him back, then slammed his face hard into the brick wall, sounding off a sickening crack that audibly signaled his skull was more than likely broken. The mask withdrew a blade from a sheath on his right leg and plunged it into the attacker's back. The attack screamed in pain, but the mask silenced him with a stiff headbutt.

The mask threw the thug to the ground. One more rough kick to the ribs and the mask backed away from the man.

The mask's chilling gaze locked with the petrified woman. She could tell, even in the dim light, his eyes were baby blue and pierced into her soul. She smiled weakly, silently thanking her hero for stepping in to save her.

Police sirens broke the quick silence between them. The masked man checked his surroundings, then retrieved his knife.

"Who are you?" The woman asked.

The man returned his gaze to the woman. "You know exactly who I am." He replied. His ice cold gaze never left the woman for the longest time, even with the sirens growing closer.

"Jon Moxley," she guessed, knowing that was exactly who she was talking to.

A flash of lightening made the woman jump. As the roll of thunder followed, the mask vanished into the shadows again.

The woman, relieved beyond comprehension that her life was no longer in danger, sat down in the rain with her back resting against the wall to wait for the authorities to arrive.

* * *

**12 Hours Earlier**

Dean Ambrose fell out of bed to the irritating sound of his alarm clock going off. He lifted himself off the tattered floor of his rundown apartment, head ringing from another late night out.

"Mother fucker, alright already," Dean's clenched fist slammed down hard on the clock's snooze button. There was absolutely no need for so much excessive force, but Dean didn't care and he was pissed he didn't get a lot of sleep the night before.

Dean pulled himself to his feet. He brushed himself off, only then realizing he was still wearing the same outfit he had on the night before. His custom fitted SWAT style sleeveless hoodie was still soaked through from the rain; It had been raining every night for the last week and it was supposed to keep going until the week after. His black cargo pants, also custom made to fit his personal shape, thankfully weren't torn anywhere like some nights in the past.

"Thank fuck I don't have to spend extra for another patch job," Dean muttered to himself, stripping away his gear and tossing them over the heater to dry.

The last thing Dean peeled off was his mask. The garment covered the lower half of his face and displayed the bottom portion of a skull. Simple, yet effective in scarring off would be attackers and striking fear into anyone who he caught breaking the law.

"Fuck, you too," Dean muttered to the mask as he tossed it next to his hoodie. "Fuckin' get dry by tonight. Heard some bad shit's goin' down."

Dean's next step was a much needed hot shower. The warm water covered his body and helped settle his strained muscles. Engaging in hand-to-hand combat was hard enough, but every single night was a whole new level of pain.

It was a Monday, which meant Dean had to go to work. He put on his required mechanic button down, with his name patched over the breast pocket, and a pair of dirty, raggedy jeans he was sure had never been washed.

Dean shuffled into the living room. On the tv, a news broadcast was talking about a thwarted jewelry store robbery that occurred the night before.

"The masked man, said to be believed as the ever infamous 'Jan Muxley', was apparently the one who arrived at the scene of the crime and apprehended all four men part of the heist," Michael Cole, lead anchor for the morning news recited from the teleprompter in front of himself. "Two of the four men are in critical condition with several broken bones and internal bleeding. The other two men only suffered mild injuries, including one broken hand and six broken fingers. As always, Titan City authorities are still offering a reward of ten thousand dollars to whoever can come forward with information on this 'Jan Muxley'," Cole turned to his broadcast colleague, Cathy Kelly. "After all, Cathy, vigilante justice only works in the movies."

Cathy flashed a fake, 'please retire so I can take your job' smile and faked a laugh at Cole's lame attempt at humor.

Dean shook his head, mildly cross about the mispronunciation of his alter-ego's name. "It's 'Jon Moxley', for fuck's sake," he muttered to himself.

Yes, to anyone unaware, Dean Ambrose was Jon Moxley by night. Masked crime fighter working outside the guidelines of law enforcement to bring down the crime rate. Dean lived in Titan City his whole life and seen the worst the city could be. His father was sent to prison for dealing drugs to a undercover police officer and his mother overdosed shortly after his twelfth birthday.

Dean never had an easy life growing up because of his parent's constant absence, even before his mom died and his dad went to jail. He was constantly picked on at school and always getting into fights with the other students. Luckily, he joined the army soon after earning his GED and soon learned all kinds of hand-to-hand techniques to protect himself. After only serving a year before getting honorably discharged, Dean returned home to get a new start on his life. His new life of fighting crime and doing police work for free kind of new life.

It all started when Dean disarmed a man that tried to rob a liquor store Dean happened to be browsing. Police arrived and scolded Dean for playing the hero, saying that he should let the police take care of business. Instead of backing off, and since he had a nag to punch just about every dealer, thug and druggie on the street, Dean decided doing the police work for them was the best way to let off steam while making his town a better place.

Dean's secret persona followed soon after. He was arrested, but released the next day, when a security camera caught him roughing up a pimp outside Suplex City, a local strip club. Dean soon dawned his signature mask and combat attire, since he could move the most comfortably in the custom gear and nobody would recognize him with his hood and mask on.

And thus, Jon Moxley was born. Moxley came from a street term used for police 'screwing everything up', ie 'the drug deal turned into a real fucking Moxley after the dude with the mask showed up'. Jon was adopted as his first name when good ol' Michael Cole dubbed him that on the evening news.

Dean paused in front of the bathroom mirror after he spat out his mouthful of toothpaste. He snickered at the small black bruise forming around his left eye, then flipped the lights off and headed for the door.

Dean quickly fetched his wallet, keys and cellphone before stepping out of his apartment and making the quick walk to his daytime job.

* * *

In a smaller section of Titan City, nicknamed LAX because of its Latin community, sat Camacho's Auto Body Garage. Dean walked from his part of town, Kickout Valley, to LAX every morning to get to work. He'd been a mechanic there since returning home from his brief stint in the army. In a little bit of irony, Camacho no longer ran the garage after being beaten down by Jon Moxley and arrested by the police. Instead, his younger cousin, Zelina, now called the shots around LAX; Basically, whoever owned the auto shop had the most say around the neighborhood.

Dean entered through a side entrance that led right into the employee lounge. Like every morning, Dean chuckled to himself when he found Andrade, Zelina and Camacho's other cousin, fast asleep at the small, round metallic table.

Dean took a moment to fix himself a cup of coffee. As he flipped on the hot water, Zelina entered the room from the front counter with fire in her eyes.

"Andrade!" The furious Latina snapped, causing Andrade to sit up and shout. She began cursing him a million words a minute in her native Spanish language. Andrade made some half-assed excuse in Spanish, then shuffled tiredly into the shop.

" _Buenos dias_ , boss-lady," Dean addressed Zelina with a grin. "Glad to see somebody woke up on the right side of the bed for once."

Zelina cocked an eyebrow. "Kissing my ass won't get you nowhere, Mr Ambrose. You're lucky you got a pretty face or I'd fire you."

Dean snickered. "Whatever you say, miss. I won't tell anyone about the crush you have on me."

Zelina's small smirk gave away her true feelings, despite trying to come off stern. "Got you workin' the front counter today. Shop's over staffed as is."

"Then have Andrade work the counter," Dean suggested. "You know I hate talkin' to people."

"Andrade doesn't speak English,  _pendejo_ , half our customers are scared white women trying to fix a loose gas gap," Zelina shook her head slowly. "Be a God given miracle if I make the quota this month."

"We'll be fine, you always think of something," Dean winked at Zelina as he passed by her. "You're a smart little chimichanga, Z."

Dean patted Arn Anderson, one of the older workers and the only other Caucasian that worked at Camacho's, on the back as he passed by him to head for the break room.

Dean wanted a chance to sit and situate himself, but the bell above the door opened just as he sat down on the stool. He set his coffee down beside the register and took his spot behind the counter.

The young woman, a pretty blonde wearing clothes way too expensive to be from this part of town, confidently marched up to the front counter. Dean, for maybe the first time in his life, was at a loss for words when the blonde flashed him a bright and cheery smile as they made eye contact.

"Hi," Dean muttered weakly. "What can I do for ya?"

"Just need someone to take a look at my SUV," the woman's voice was soft and each word was spoken with practiced enunciation.

Dean nodded. "Sure, no problem. Name please."

"Renee Young, I have a two thousand five Toyota highlander. The brake pads need to be replaced, I'm sure of that. Otherwise, maybe just an oil change."

"You from LAX?" Dean asked while typing the woman's information into the computer. "You seem way too out of place here. I mean that in a good way."

Renee chuckled softly. "No, I live up in Nearfalls. A friend told me you guys have the best cheap service."

Dean shrugged. "Yeah, that'll be us. We get the job done and luckily all of our workers slave away for pennies," Dean nodded at the camera around Renee's neck. "What's the camera for?"

"Photographer for Titan Times," Renee proudly showed off the camera. "I started last week, but I'm running a little behind today. I'm supposed to be in a meeting right now."

"Well, we'll get your car looked at and fixed quicker than you can say, 'I need my Goddamn car, I'm late for work'," Dean joked, earning a quiet chuckle from Renee.

On the tv above the counter, another report on Jon Moxley's actions from the night before came on. Renee tuned in to Michael Cole's ramblings, but Dean caught an eyeful of the blonde's luscious cleavage. She missed a button towards the middle of her white blouse, giving Dean a line of sight right to her matching white satin bra. His mind took off in all sorts of directions, steaming from asking Renee out to diner to taking her on the counter in front of his coworkers, but Zelina Vega's sudden angry Spanish voice pierced his ear and brought him back to reality.

"I'm just checking her out, er, in," Dean said in his defense. Zelina rolled her eyes and stormed back into her office. "Shit, sorry, miss. The guys'll bring your car in right away."

Renee cleared her throat. "I have a boyfriend."

"I wasn't-"

"I don't think it's workplace appropriate to stare at a woman's chest while trying to get her service," Renee smiled sassy like. "Just a thought... Dean."

Just hearing the pretty blonde say his name did wonders for Dean. He imagined what his name would sound like rolling off her tongue while she screamed at the top of her lings as their hips crashed together and she dig into his back with her fingernails.

Once again, Zelina's sharp and no-joking matter voice brought his attention again. He quickly sent her info through to the shop. Renee took a seat in one of the chairs in the waiting area. For a split second, she switched her legs around and Dean caught a glimpse of her panties up her skirt ala Basic Instinct. He shuttered, chuckled to himself, then pretended to look busy after catching Zelina's eye again.

* * *

**Now**

Dean staggered into his apartment, nearly tripping over his coffee table as he settled into the couch. Another successful night of protecting as many people as he could, one of them being the pretty lady he met at Camacho's earlier in the morning. He now felt bad, after saving her, for making her take a cab to work and not having the car ready for her when she got back. That ultimately led her to try to walk home, which then caused the events that ended with Jon Moxley saving her life from a pair of would be assailants.

Dean pulled off his mask and clicked on the tv. The news was on with a recap of the crime scene he was literally just at. He clicked the volume up a few notches when police cars zipped past his building in the direction of LAX and, thankfully, not Kickout Valley.

"Live on the scene with Captain John Cena of the Titan City police department," Charly Caruso, the other pretty newswoman with the black hair and big hips, stood beside the Bane to Dean's Batman, Captain John Cena. "Captain, what exactly happened here tonight?"

Cena cleared his throat, then spoke. "Well, it seems Mr Moxley beat us to the scene again. One man was found in critical condition with a knife wound in his back, while the other is believed to have passed away from his injuries. Now, I don't know what happened, or who is to blame, but the woman who was attacked swears it was Moxley that saved her. As always, I'm glad a good samaritain stepped in and did what was right. But one man is dead, and that's still against the law, no matter who you are."

"I didn't shoot anybody," Dean snickered. "Stupid fuck shot his buddy himself."

Charly turned to the woman who was saved, the very gorgeous Renee Young, who was still damp from the rain outside. "Miss Young, you say it was Jon Moxley who saved you tonight?"

Renee nodded. "I know that mask anywhere. I've taken his picture a million times to know it's him."

"Little devil," Dean muttered with a smirk. He recalled seeing someone hiding behind a newsstand while he took down some drug dealers, but he didn't know Renee and that woman were two in the same.

"I just think, Jon Moxley really is a hero," Renee announced into the mic. "I know he does some bad things, but without him I would be dead... Or worse. Jon, if you're seeing this, thank you so much."

"You're welcome," Dean said to himself with a chuckle.


	2. Information Costs Extra

Sunlight arrived over the Kickout Valley early Tuesday morning. Dean's alarm clock screamed at him to awaken from another short night of slumber. The aforementioned vigilante by night reached for the power socket in the wall and tore the source of electricity away from his clock.

"Fuck you," Dean muttered with his eyes still closed in the direction of his bedside table. If he could afford to skip a day, he'd call in sick every once in a while just to get a few more hours of rest. But, that wasn't possible if he wanted to keep his job. But a few hours of sleep would be crucial in still being the the hero his city needed.

As Dean buttoned his work shirt after a quick shower, he heard a knock at his door. Instinctively, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. The odds of someone finding out he was Moxley were impossible, so maybe he was acting a little paranoid, but then again he never had visitors.

Dean collected his knife from the coffee table and approached the door slowly. "Who is it?" He asked, keeping his voice as normal as could be with his gradual steps taking him the to door.

"It's me, silly!" Came a high pitched chirp from the other side.

Dean sighed, shaking his head at himself. He plunged his knife back into the coffee table and threw open his front door.

"Hi, Dean!" Cried the ever energetic Bayley Martinez, the youngest tenant in the building and quite possibly the human equivalent of an ounce of cocaine. Her bright smile and sideways ponytail did lighten Dean's mood whenever he interacted with the young woman. Though sometimes her over-eagerness to crush his rib cage with a hug at nearly every opportunity did get on his nerves; Though he'd never admit that to her.

Before Dean could respond, Bayley threw her arms around him and proceeded to turn his ribs into dust.

"Hey," Ambrose managed to grunt, finding it difficult to breathe.

Bayley released her python like grip. "So, what are you up to today? Anything exciting?"

Dean gestured at his work shirt. "Work, Bay. Like everyone else. I don't have the same perks you nurses do where I can have a day off."

"Yeah, but I just worked a thirty-six hour shift," Bayley checked over both shoulders, then leaned in close to Dean. "Did Moxley catch any bad guys last night?"

The biggest mistake Dean had ever made in his life was accidentally letting Bayley see him in his Moxley gear. He was coming home from a night on patrol, half asleep and badly beaten, when Bayley was leaving for her late-night shift. Dean, mask still covering his face, didn't react right away until Bayley frantically ushered him into her apartment to attend to his bleeding arm; He usually came home via the fire escape, but his injured arm prevented that. While she gave her fellow tenant some sutures for his wounds, Bayley promised to never tell a soul about her discovery. So far, she was doing good at keeping that promise.

Dean smirked. "Yes, he beat up a few bad guys trying to rob a pretty blonde lady."

Bayley's face lit up. "Really? Dean, that's so freaking cool! Man, I wish I could be a superhero like you."

Dean shook his head and stepped out into the hall. "I'm no superhero, Bayley," he secured the locks on his apartment door, then jiggled the knob a few times to make sure it was secure. "You, on the other hand, are. You help people everyday. Nurses, police officers, firefighters and strippers are all superheros."

Bayley scrunched her face in confusion. "Strippers?"

Dean chuckled. "Float them enough singles and they can handle any problem you might have."

Bayley shrugged her shoulders. "Anyway, what are you up to Friday? I have the weekend off and I was thinking-"

"You don't want me as a boyfriend, Bayley," Dean cut in. "Trust me. You don't want that."

"No no, I'm not asking you out again," Bayley said. "It's my birthday this Friday and I'm turning twenty-one. You told me on my eighteenth birthday that you would take me out for a drink on my twenty-first. You totally did, I remember."

Dean sighed again. "Yeah, that would be great, but I got a 'night job'... Remember?"

"Ok, then I buy a bottle of alcohol and wait up for you," Bayley offered. "I know you come home around two in the morning. It's usually when I get off work or I'm up playing video games and I hear you."

"Bayley-"

"Come on! You're telling me the 'protector of Titan City' wouldn't want a drink after beating up bad guys?" Bayley asked, pleasing look in her chocolate brown eyes.

Dean sighed for a third time. "There's no getting out of this, is there?"

Bayley giggled and shook her head. "Nope!"

Dean nodded. "Alright," he paused to snicker when Bayley squealed in delight. "After my patrol is done, I'll swing by your place and we can have your first drink."

"Awesome!" Bayley threw her arms around Dean again, pulling him in for a bone crushing hug. "Thanks so much, Dean! You're the best!"

Despite his sarcastic personality and often times loner qualities, Dean smiled to himself on the walk to work thanks to the brief interaction with his favorite least favorite person in the world.

* * *

_"Ambrose, take a seat," Sgt. Robert Remus gestured to the seat in front of his desk when PFC Ambrose stepped through his door._

_"Did I do something wrong, sarge?" Ambrose asked, staring nervously at his commanding officer. The mission he had been assigned did not go according to plan, but his injuries weren't even that bad. Compared to others that went with him, Ambrose got off lucky, in his opinion._

_"Well, there isn't any easy way of saying this," Remus said. "The United States Armed Forces and I both agree that it's best we... Relieve you of your duties and award you the purple heart. You're goin' home, kid."_

_Ambrose chuckled dryly. "Sir, but... I'll be healed in a few weeks, can't I just-"_

_"It wasn't my call, kid," Remus cut in. "You and I both know I think you're the best damn soldier in my unit. But, because of what went down yesterday, I can't let you stay here. It might only get worse."_

_Ambrose dropped his head. "I'm sorry I failed them, sir."_

_Remus stood up from his desk. "Attention!" He yelled, standing at salute._

_Ambrose, as quickly as he could on his injured leg, rose to his feet and mimicked his commanding officer's gesture._

_"I'm proud of you, Ambrose," Remus stated. "You got your entire life ahead of you. You spent the last year here bein' a goddamn hero. You will always be an honorable man in my opinion."_

_Ambrose, with a lone tear running down his cheek, lowered his hand. "Thank you, sir."_

* * *

"Earth to Ambrose!" Called the never ending angry voice of Zelina Vega.

Dean snapped from his thoughts. It took him a second to realize he wasn't in the Middle East anymore, but was in fact in an auto-body garage in Titan City.

"I'm sorry, what'd you need, Z?" Ambrose asked the fuming Latina.

"I said, I have to speak to Andrade right now but I'll be meeting with you after," Zelina clarified. "Do I need to write it down for you,  _pendejo?_ "

Dean sipped at his cup of coffee with a chuckle. "I hear you loud and clear, Z. I'll be wooing customers with my wickedly good looks when you need me."

Zelina rolled her eyes and stomped out of the employee break room.

Now that he had his daily morning coffee, and his daily morning scolding from his boss, Dean took his spot behind the counter again. Though he hated having to interact with people, Dean wasn't going to complain that much today. Renee, the photographer from the day before and the one Moxley saved the previous night, was sitting patiently in the waiting area for her car to finally get fixed.

Dean pretended to be fixated on a magazine, but he was really stealing peeks at the blonde woman in the lobby. It was raining, because of course it was, which thankfully soaked the woman's white blouse under her blue blazer. There was no definite sight, but Dean could just make out the outline of the blue bra the woman was wearing under her shirt.

Renee glanced up from her phone, momentarily locking eyes with Ambrose.

In slight panic, Dean said the first thing that came to mind. "We fix cars," he sputtered, tripping over his words like a middle schooler talking to his crush.

Renee cocked an eyebrow. "I would hope so."

With his foot now firmly in his mouth, Dean caught his boss's eye and took that as his cue to enter her office. He passed Andrade on the way and couldn't help but chuckle at the horrified look on his face.

"Ambrose," Zelina said as the man himself walked into her office. "Here," she handed him an envelope. "Congratulations. You made employee of the month. Enjoy your bonus before I change my mind."

Dean tucked the envelope into his pocket. "Alright, I know there's a catch here."

Zelina raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"You're only nice to me when you're about to ask me to do something really dumb," Dean explained.

Zelina nodded her head. "Alright, fair enough. Andrade needs the next few days off, so I need you working the front counter the rest of the week."

Dean groaned in frustration. "Why? Why the hell do you have me do things I am not good at?"

Zelina pointed a stern finger at Dean. "You do not yell at me,  _perro_. If you think for a second that I will not  _pon mi bota en tu culo llorón..."_

Just before Zelina launched into an angry tirade, Arn Anderson poked his head into the office.

"Sorry, ma'am, but Dean needs to check this young lady out," Arn said. "Her car is ready and nobody's shown me how to use the dang thing."

Zelina shooed Dean away with a wave of her hands.

Dean stepped behind the till, a fake smile to show just how much he hated being where he was spread painfully across his face.

"Your car is all ready, miss," Dean told Renee.

"Well, you did say you fix cars, so I hope so," Renee said with a smirk, clearly only giving Dean a hard time for his earlier slip up.

Dean grinned. "Yes, you caught me at the one time I'm not smooth when it comes to hitting on attractive women."

Renee rolled her eyes. "Just get me my car. And what part of 'I have a boyfriend' isn't ringing in your brain?"

"What's your guy's name?" Dean asked.

Renee paused, like she had been caught off guard by the question. "Uh... Ron... Nald."

Dean smirked. "Ok, does Ronald happen to work at McDonald's?"

"No, he's a reporter," Renee opened her purse. "Just tell me the price for the repairs and I'll leave."

"One forty-one and drinks with me on Friday," Dean spoke.

"Again, taken," Renee insisted. "Besides, I know what kind of mischief you LAX people get into."

"I live in Kickout Valley," Dean stated with a grin.

Renee rolled her eyes. "Still. I don't need to be associated with people who can't even get brake pads fixed in a day."

Dean shrugged. "Yeah, fair enough."

Above them, on the tv, Michael Cole was talking for the morning news broadcast.

"...no word on the whereabouts of former champion, Deville. In other news, mayoral candidate, Cody Rhodes, will be holding a press conference outside his father's business, Rhodes Scholars, to further address his plane for the increasing crime in Titan City..."

"Ugh, I hate Rhodes," Renee told Dean. "That guy is the least honest person I know. He has absolutely no idea what he's doing, except living off the coattails of his father and older brother."

Dean shrugged. "I dunno. He says he'll put crime to an end."

Renee scoffed. "Yeah, sure he will. Right after he stops stuffing his pockets with Bullet Club money."

Dean's attention caught on the name 'Bullet Club'. "I thought those guys went down a few years back?"

Renee shook her head. "No, that's what they want you to think. I got a person down at Suplex City that says they meet there all the time with the owner. No idea what's going on, but she swears she saw Cody and Kenny freaking Omega around there."

"Kenny Omega..." Dean repeated under his breath. "That is very interesting indeed."

Renee sighed. "Don't make me regret this," she slid over her business card. "I'm free Friday."

Dean snickered. "What will Ron think?"

Renee threw Dean a middle finger, making him burst out laughing, as she walked out of the shop.

* * *

Vigilante work would have to wait a few more hours. For now, Dean was full detective mode. He arrived to Suplex City, a famous strip club in town, just before midnight. He was more than familiar with the set-up and who to talk to when needing information.

Dean stepped into the familiar pop music, flashing lights and alcohol stenched club he had grown fond of over the years. He made his way to the bar where Seth Rollins, a guy he had gotten to know over the years, was serving drinks.

"Dean, how's it goin'? Need a beer?" Rollins yelled over the music when Ambrose approached the bar.

Dean shook his head. "No, I want a private dance. Is Nikki here?"

Rollins nodded. "Yeah, lemme call her up quick. You're lucky too, she's about to punch out."

Dean took a seat at the bar. He scanned the room for any suspicious looking business men meeting up with any rumored to be dead gang members, but Dean only saw dancers walking around for more possible tips and the main stage with two dancers performing a routine.

"Hi, I'm Nikki, you requested... Oh, mother fucker," Dean spun in his seat to face the annoyed expression of one Nikki Bella, one of the more popular dancers at Suplex City.

"Hey, Nikki, great to see you again!" Dean hopped down from his stool. "How about we grab a private room, eh?"

Nikki crossed her arms across the top of her two piece lingerie. "And why would I do that?"

Dean withdrew his bonus pay from his jacket and flashed the bills inside to the dancer. "I think we need to talk."

Nikki, without another word, led Dean to the back of the building to one of the private dance rooms. After assuring the guard it was ok, Nikki shut the curtain to the room.

"What do you need to know?" Nikki asked.

"Why are you telling news reporters that Bullet Club is back in town?" Dean asked.

Nikki shook her head. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm paid per song, Dean, and it's the end of my shift anyway."

Dean thumbed through a few bills and laid them on the coffee table in front of him. "Four hundred, that's enough for two songs. Tell me what I need to know, and put on a good show for your boss," he nodded at the security camera not-so-discreetly hidden in the corner of the room.

"Fine," Nikki straddled Dean's waist. She slapped his hands away when he set them on her hips, then started to grind on him. "Cody is trying to bring the Club back from the dead."

"Bullshit," Dean shot back.

"Not kidding, Dean," Nikki said. "I heard them talking to each other the other night. Cody brought in Omega, who has connections with The Young Bucks. They have new product coming out of Japan, and Cody wants in to get a couple bucks."

"Who are the connections the Young Bucks have?" Dean asked.

Nikki shook her head. "I don't know. They just kept referring to him as 'Hangman'. I don't even know what the Bucks's real names are, just that they're brothers and they both like private shows from me and my sister."

Dean nodded his head. "Anything else? Anything to do with them would help me out a lot."

Nikki shook her head. "That's all I know. Cody wants to bring the Bullet Club back, I'm guessing so they can help him control the city more. I don't want to see that daddy's boy destroy this city because he loves money and power too much."

"Thanks, Nick, you're a huge help," Dean started to get up, but Nikki shoved him back down.

"If they check the cameras and see you left after five seconds when you paid for two songs, they'll know something's up," Nikki said. "Besides, why do you need to know what I know?"

"Don't worry about it," Dean nodded at Nikki's top. "So, am I gonna get to see the other twins?"

"You've seen them a million times," Nikki unsnapped the latch on her bra, making the garment fall off her shoulders and onto the floor. "Happy?"

Dean nodded his head slowly. "Oh, big time."

* * *

After his dance from Nikki, Dean stepped out into the night outside the bar. It was almost one and he didn't feel like going all the way home to get into his gear and go out on patrol, since he wasn't going to get a lot of sleep anyway. Instead, Dean started to head home.

"Hey, I said fuck off," came a voice in the alley between Suplex City and the next building over.

Dean took a step towards the noise, ready to fight, when suddenly a man came rushing out in front of him. Dean spun around in time to watch as the man ran right in front of an oncoming semi. The truck stopped a good four hundred feet from where it hit the poor pedestrian, leaving behind twisted metal and a massive red splotch in the middle of the road.

"What the fuck?" Dean asked out loud.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean spotted a short blonde woman emerge from the shadows. She made eye contact with him, then started to hurry in the opposite direction.

"Hey," Dean called after her. "What happened to that guy?"

"Leave me alone!" The woman called over her shoulder.

"Wait, I just want to-"

The woman spun on her heels. "I SAID, LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Dean locked with the woman's crystal blue eyes. Her voice echoed in his brain and, like he was being guided by an unseen force, started to walk away from the scared woman. But he bumped into another figure, breaking his trance and clearing his mind.

"What's your problem, jackass?" The second figure hissed and, from the sound of her voice, Dean could tell it was a woman. "He bothering you?" She asked the blonde woman from before.

The blonde girl nodded her head. "Yeah, I'm fine." She looked at Dean again and, like before, he was transfixed on her glittery blue eyes.

"I'm a baby dick loser that deserves to get my ass kicked," Dean suddenly spoke, though it didn't come off in his usual tone of voice; It sounded more like an emotionless monotone.

The second woman dropped her hood. "Dude, get the fuck out of her before I actually do kick your ass."

"I didn't... I didn't say that," Dean pointed at the blonde woman. "Wait, are you one of those people? The ones with the weird-"

"FUCK OFF!" The blonde screamed, making Dean once again turn and begin to walk away.

Just before he got too far, the second woman spun him around and shoved him into a streetlight.

"Wanna fuckin' fight, jackass?" The second woman challenged. "COME ON! I need a good fight."

Dean pointed a finger at the second woman. "You're Sonya Deville. Half the city is looking for you after you lost your fight to Ronda Rousey."

Deville's eyes widened. "Oh, you mother fucker."

"No!" The tiny blonde suddenly grabbed Deville by her arm and pulled her in for a kiss.

Dean, momentarily stunned and not because he was being hypnotized, watched the girls lock lips for a second. Then, the blonde whispered something, and Deville was walking in the opposite direction.

"What-"

"You never saw me," the blonde warned, locking eyes with Dean again.

Dean, nodding absentmindedly, repeated her words. "I never saw you."

"You're gonna go home and sleep this night off and forget who I am."

"I'm going to go home, sleep this night off and forget who you are."

The next thing Dean knew, he was standing at the foot of his bed in his apartment.

"What the fuck?" Dean asked the empty room. "How the... Mother fucker!"

Dean's head felt like it was splitting down the middle. He knew he needed answers, and needed them now, but what he could remember was at least a good start.

"Fucking supers," Dean muttered to himself, trying to hold on to the last speck of memory he had of the blonde girl so he could find her again in the future.


	3. Goddamn Supers

Splitting headache and dire thirst in full swing, Ambrose had the effects a hangover would bring the morning after one of the more stranger experiences of his life. Of course, alcohol wasn't the one to blame for his pain. Some short, blonde little shit with mind control powers took control of him three times too many and tried to make him forget who she was and anything else that might've happened the night before, regardless if she was involved or not.

Dean didn't go to bed. Instead of recharging his batteries, the determined vigilante stayed up all night researching the supers like the woman he met last night. There had been an abundance of them only a few years back, but then the government tried to put a stop to them when a few of the bad apples started using their powers for bad intentions. Police stepped in, then the army, then people, A LOT of people, started to die. Some supers, some civilians, and some Titan City police officers and United States armed men and women.

Dean struggled to keep his eyes clear and stop his hands from shaking when, while trying to dig anything up on the girl, he saw photos from the worst bloodshed the United States had seen since the American Civil War.

_"Ambrose, get the hell back!"_

_"We gotta keep pushing forward!"_

_"Dammit, we have to go back!"_

_"We have fucking orders!"_

Ambrose slammed his laptop shut. He exhaled slowly, feeling that panic and fear rise in his chest. The kind of feeling that made him want to pin a drug dealer against a brick wall and wail on him with his fists until he stopped moving. There was a reason he hated supers and an even bigger reason why he hated being called a 'super hero'. Superheroes didn't exist, in Dean's opinion. Just freaks with powers and him.

From what he collected before having to be reminded of one of the worst weeks of his life, Ambrose found out some information about the girl. It was more information about her kind of people, rather than her specifically. Apparently, during the battle that saw nearly half of Titan City crumble, several mind control supers, called 'Mind-Walkers' by the media, died in the ensuing battle. There were supposed to be none of the kind left. Plus, according to the briefing on the Titan City News website, only males could hold the gene that gave them that specific power. How a girl could have this power was beyond Dean, but he didn't particularity care about an origin story. Supers were the ones responsible for the death of many of his friends. It was almost twelve years ago to the date and the city itself had moved on and built from the war, but that didn't soften the blow for Ambrose.

Sunlight peaked through the blinds of his living room. Dean blinked, breaking away from the thoughts that plagued his sleep every night. He didn't think he was up that late doing his detective work, but it took all night from the look of it.

"Fuck," Ambrose muttered, hearing the alarm in his bedroom go off. "I thought I unplugged that fucking thing."

Reluctantly, Dean got to his feet and started his usual morning routine to ready himself for his dismal job.

* * *

The day just didn't want to end. Add insomnia on top of it and Dean was pretty sure time itself had stopped and Wednesday really wasn't going to end ever.

The work day was slow. Zelina yelled at Dean like she always did for whatever reason. The workshop mostly kept to themselves, with the one exception of Arn. He had to step out of the shop every so often to give his cancer ridden lungs a break. He was going to live, thankfully, but it was a constant strain on the poor old man. Dean thought his life was shit, but he never let it go too much to his head because of Arn.

"Hey there, youngin'," Arn sputtered with a rough sounding cough.

Ambrose, who'd been staring off into space for a few minutes, nodded to Arn. "You gonna live, old man?" He joked.

Arn rolled his eyes. "Unfortunately. The reaper is too chicken shit to take me, Ambrose."

"I ran into a super last night," Dean stated. "Right outside Suplex City. Bitch almost got me killed too."

"Lemme guess, gotdamn Chameleon making you think it was a dancer, but it's really a homeless hooker?" Arn asked, chuckling at what he thought was Dean's expense.

Ambrose shook his head. "Mind-Walker," he paused to nod at Arn's now stone serious face. "Yep. Thought the last of them were fuckin' dead. They're supposed to be anyway."

"And this one was a girl?" Arn asked. He scoffed when Dean nodded his head again. "I call bullshit, son. There ain't no Mind-Walkers with tits."

"Well, this one had a pretty big pair of 'em and she sure as fuck didn't have a dick," Ambrose said. "Tried to figure out somethin'. I don't remember a lot."

"Probably because she made you forget," Arn pointed out.

"I know it. All I can remember is what she looks like. It's not a lot, but I'd know it if I saw her again," Dean said.

"Wasn't that girlie that was in here yesterday, was it?" Arn asked.

Dean shook his head. "No, not her. I can always tell when someone's a fuckin' super. Renee isn't a super. I would've charged her double for the brake pads if she was."

Arn chuckled. "At least you've moved past the 'all supers must die' phase."

Dean snickered. "Oh, I didn't say I have. I just feel like me and little 'miss Mind-Walker' are going to have a chat when I see her again."

Arn nodded his head slowly. "Right. So, 'miss brake pads' has a name, eh?"

Dean smirked. "Got a date with her on Friday. Drinks and shit. I'm thinking I'll have to take her some place where she's from or I'll never get to see her naked."

"My wife was from the Valley. She hated the preppy upper class crap. If 'brake pads' came here of all places to fix her car, maybe she isn't as stuck up as you might think." Arn said, making a pretty good point.

Dean shrugged. "That's a good point. I always pictured something different with two blonde women in my life."

"Son, you know I hate them supers as much as the next guy," Arn sighed. "But, I don't give a rat's ass anymore. War's done, best we all move on, right?"

"If you say so, man," Dean muttered. Arn may have moved on, but Dean didn't think he'd have that ability any time soon.

As Dean sat back down on his stool, he caught the ever annoyed stare of his boss. Zelina, walking with a sense that wasn't anger for once, approached Ambrose.

"Z, always good to see you," Dean stated with a grin, making his superior roll her eyes.

" _Dean, qué te pasa?_  You look like death," Zelina said. "Did you get any sleep last night?"

Dean shook his head. "No, I didn't. But I don't need sleep. I'll be perfectly fine."

Zelina rolled her eyes. "How about you go home, ok? I'll have Arn come up here."

Dean shook his head. "Wait, no, I can't-"

"I'll pay you out for the rest of the day, alright?" Zelina cut in. "That's more than I'd do for the  _idiotas_ in the shop. Take the rest of the day to sleep and come in tomorrow ready to go, ok?"

Dean hesitated for a moment, but then got off his stool. "Ok? Why are you being so nice to me?" He asked, looking the small Latina up and down for some kind of give away as to why she was being nicer to him than usual. Her hands were folded behind her back instead of balled into fists at her sides. Her angry demeanor was gone too, which gave Dean a chill down his back.

"Ok..." Dean replied. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Good," Zelina simply stated before going back to her office. Dean continued watching her walk away, puzzled by her friendly attitude for him. She turned around to shut the door and locked us with him. She gave him her signature cocked eyebrow, and Dean chuckled. She rolled her eyes and shut the door. Never mind, she was the same old Zelina.

Dean unbuttoned his shirt and started the quick walk back home. It was raining of course, but the cold water felt nice against his heated body from the shop.

Since Dean wasn't wearing his Moxley gear, he didn't need to sneak back to his apartment via the fire escape. He took the main staircase to his apartment, located on the second floor. It was a point in the day when people were working their normal day time jobs, which Dean was thankful for since he didn't like talking to people anyway.

Just as Dean reached the top of the stairs, the door at the end of the hall closed. Bayley, nurse scrubs on under a rain coat, had her back to Dean while she locked her door. Dean liked having Bayley as a friend, but he was too tired to try and keep up with her energetic personality.

Dean quickly stepped to his door, which was on the other side of the hall from the stairs. He pulled his keys out, but accidentally dropped them on the floor.

"Dean!"

"Shit," Dean muttered. He faced the young woman with a tired grin. "Hey, Bayley. How are you?"

Bayley threw her arms around Ambrose's frame. "I'm so super duper good," she let him go. "I have a shift until Friday morning. But I haven't forgotten what we planned on doing."

"Good. I'm actually looking forward to that," Dean admitted. "You're so happy and upbeat and I'm too tired to keep up with ya. But getting drunk with you on Friday does sound pretty great."

"Yay, I'm so glad you're excited," the eccentric young woman pecked Dean on the cheek. "I gotta get going, but I'll see you Friday night!"

Dean stood in surprise for a moment, eyes furrowed together. Bayley left downstairs, either to escape backlash or completely unaware that she just kissed Dean on the cheek.

"Oh, boy," Dean muttered to himself with a head shake. He hoped Bayley's small showing of affection was a one time thing. Maybe she didn't think it was as intimate as Dean did and he was overthinking it, but he still needed to let her know, for maybe the hundredth time, she wouldn't want him as anything more than a neighbor.

That was a concern for another day. Right now, Dean needed a nap. After that, he was making another visit to Suplex City to see if the Mind-Walker from the night before was somewhere in the area.

* * *

The downpour from earlier ceased into a light drizzle. Dean tucked his gear bag behind a dumpster in the alleyway beside the infamous strip club. The street out front was still tapped off from the accident the night before. The police were gone and probably not coming back to complete the investigation.

Dean stepped back into the pop music and daddy disappointing scented club. He took a look around, but not much had changed since the night before. He made his way to the bar where Seth was working again.

"Two nights in a row, Dean?" Seth said over the music.

"I'm actually looking for someone, if you've seen her before," Dean held his hand out to the side. "About yay high. Blondie with red streaks in her hair. Big titties."

Seth pointed at the stage. "You mean Alexa?"

Dean turned to look at the main stage in the middle of the room. A spotlight focused on the end of the catwalk that led to a curtain. The song "Pornstar Dancing" started to play, which made Dean chuckle a bit. He took a seat, ready to see if it really was the girl he was looking for. If not, he was going to enjoy the show.

"Introducing tonight's main event," the DJ announced over the loudspeaker. "Everyone's favorite goddess. Give it up for, Alexa Bliss!"

A short blonde woman suddenly burst from the curtain. Sure enough, it was the Mind-Walker Dean was looking for. She strutted down the catwalk, shaking her rear with her breasts emphasized by her tiny top.

"Mother fucker," Dean growled, shaking his head slightly.

"Right? She's a little hottie, eh?" Seth said. "She makes almost a thousand bucks a night in tips alone. I have no idea how she does it."

Dean chuckled dryly. "I have a clue. How much for a private dance from her? Five hundred?"

"Try five grand," Seth said. "You'd think that's fuckin' ridiculous, but a lot of lonely bastards fork up the cash for 'A Moment of Bliss'."

"A what?" Dean asked.

"It's what she calls her private dances," Seth chuckled. "Shit, if I could afford it, I'd pay for a private dance."

"Yeah, I don't have that kind of cash," Dean shook his head. "Whatever, I'm patient. She can just have a talk with Moxley."

"What'd you say?" Seth asked.

Dean got up from his seat. "Nothin'! I'll see ya later, Seth."

* * *

Alexa's shift was finally done. She wasn't feeling well, but her boss let her go home right away after her dance. She grinned to herself. He didn't let her go under his own will, but Alexa was pretty 'persuasive'.

Alexa poked her head out of the back exit of Suplex City. Unlike the night before, her shitbag ex wasn't waiting for her to rough her up for that night's tips. She knew no one was going to bother her anymore, but she still felt the need to check just in case.

Bundled in her raincoat, Alexa tucked her tips in her pocket. Another extremely successful night, again, thanks to her 'persuasive' abilities.

"So you use your powers to steal from rich losers?" Alexa jumped at the sudden voice calling from behind her. She spun on her heels, expecting another creep trying to take advantage of her. But the black and white mask covering his chin was not what she was expecting.

"What the hell do  _you_  want?" Alexa snapped. She knew who Moxley was and she admired him for taking down the evil in the city. But she didn't feel the same way when he had her cornered in a dark ally.

"You know, with your kind almost extinct, I figured you'd be a little more cautious," Moxley stayed just outside the illumination of the streetlight, completely covering himself in shadow.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Alexa lied, smirking a little with a sassy head nod.

"No? Usually you Mind-Walkers are more cocky about your bullshit," Moxley shot back.

Alexa rolled her eyes. "I'm a tiny dick loser and I have no friends," she furrowed her brow when Moxley didn't even flinch. "What the hell? Walk home and forget everything you did tonight."

"Not gonna work this time," Moxley finally stepped into the light. He pointed to the dark sunglasses over his eyes. "You can't do shit if you can't see my eyes. Pretty lame defense, but so is being unable to mind fuck me if I'm wearing six dollar sunglasses."

Alexa rolled her eyes. She marched up to Moxley, stood on her toes, pulled his mask down and kissed his lips.

The next thing Moxley knew, he was standing outside a convenience store. He looked around, trying to figure out what just happened. He saw the store's cashier watching him in shock and awe from inside. At his feet was a young man, possibly a teenager, clutching at his broken nose.

"Dude, I only stole a candy bar," the teen whimpered.

"Goddammit!" Moxley shouted.

A few blocks away, Alexa turned onto the street her apartment building was on. She chuckled to herself. She never brainwashed a famous person before, aside from Sonya, which made it all the more funny to her.

Suddenly, the masked vigilante from before jumped out in front of her.

"No no no no, you don't get to get away that easily this time!" Moxley yelled, pointing a stern index finger at the tiny stripper.

Alexa rolled her eyes and started for Moxley again, but he took a step back.

"Oh no, you're not pulling that shit on me again," Moxley warned. "I'm not above punching a woman in the face, lady!"

"Wow, such a gentleman," Alexa scoffed. "What do you even want with me? I haven't done anything illegal."

"You made someone walk in front of a freaking eighteen wheeler last night," Moxley said. "And you take money from people against their will."

"People spend a shitload of cash at strip clubs anyway. Who cares if I... 'Persuade' them to give me extra. And if you must know, that asshole from last night was my ex. He was slapping me around and I finally got him to listen to me."

Moxley eased back a little. He didn't know that side of the story until now. "What do you mean finally?" He asked.

"He was a super too," Alexa sighed. "He was a Juggernaut, actually. Ya know, super strength and agility? Well, they have a thicker skull and it's harder for us to tap into their brains. He finally let his guard down last night and... I made him stop hitting me."

"Ok, I didn't know that," Moxley admitted. "He got off easy, if you ask me. But you can't steal from people. You know that's wrong."

"I can't get a normal job, genius," Alexa said. "Everyone does DNA tests these days to make sure you aren't a super. But the fucking morons who put that together don't realize Mind-Walkers are the  _only_  people who will show a red flag. Every job that pays decent, anyway. I'm not going to be a waitress in a mom and pop diner in the Swamp just because the owners are supers too."

"Still," Moxley shook his head. "I gotta bring you in. I think they'll let you off easy if you don't tell them if you're a super. Otherwise, you never get to leave that place until the army shows up and you spend the rest of your life in Titan Tower."

Alexa chuckled tearfully. "You don't think I don't know that? I have to work this job or I'm screwed. People already hate my kind for bullshit reasons. I don't need a Batman wannabe to tell me too."

"Bullshit reasons?" Moxley yelled. "Your people started killing innocent citizens."

"I'm from Ohio!" Alexa shouted. "My mom and dad moved out here because my dad got a new job. It's super hating racists like you that got him killed."

Moxley didn't respond after that. He dropped his gaze from the crying woman. His hate for supers stemmed from personal experiences, and Alexa's hatred for normal humans came from similar experiences.

"I don't steal from lower income people," Alexa said. "When I'm dancing, I read minds to see which ones are the drunk millionaires that can afford to drop some cash. I don't accept money from people just there to get away from the real world. That's why you've never heard of me until tonight... Dean."

"Fuck," Moxley muttered under his breath. "You can't tell people who I am. I'd be in just as much trouble as you."

"Then don't turn me in," Alexa wiped the tears out of her eyes as she choked back a sob. "Please, I can't go to jail right now. My... My mom is sick and I can't leave her alone."

"What's wrong with her?" Moxley asked.

"When you mate with a super, it messes with your body," Alexa explained. "My dad was a Mind-Walker too. My mom has ovarian cancer and I'm trying to save up enough for her to get the surgery she needs. But because they know she got it from a super, her expenses are higher because doctors are too fucking scared to operate on 'radioactive' organs. I don't have an ounce of radioactive blood in my body. None of us do."

"How do I know you're not full of shit?" Moxley asked.

Alexa marched up to Moxley. Before he could react, she placed the palm of her hand against his forehead. In a matter of seconds, Moxley's brain was filled with memories from the tiny woman. Things ranging from growing up in Ohio, to moving to Titan City, to witnessing her father die and caring for her sick mother.

Alexa pulled her hand away. "Satisfied?"

Moxley clutched at his head. "Fuck, what the fuck?"

"Oh, eat a chocolate bar and shotgun a bottle of orange juice you big bitch," Alexa chastised.

Moxley rubbed the front of his head. It throbbed from where Alexa's hand was with a hot, almost burning, pain.

Moxley sighed. "Fine. I won't say shit to the police. But you swear you don't steal from anyone who doesn't deserve it."

"Of course not," Alexa promised. "Thank you, Dean. I mean, Jon."

Moxley stepped aside to let Alexa pass him. When she brushed by his side, he felt it safe to finally remove his glasses.

"Hey," he turned around and called after the blonde. "You have nice tits, by the way."

Alexa spun on her heels and made eye contact with Moxley. Next thing he knew, he was standing in his bedroom.

Moxley chuckled. "Shit," he pulled off his mask. "Alright, that's one mystery solved for today. But don't think this means I don't still hate you fucking people for what you did."

Dean shed his Moxley gear. Judging by the pain in his hands, he did some crime fighting while under Alexa's trance. He decided it was time to call it a night and try to get a decent rest before having to go back to Camacho's and drag himself through a full shift.


	4. Not Built for this Kind of Life

Ambrose had fought drug dealers, thugs, thieves, pimps and many other kinds of bottom feeding scum Titan City had to offer. Staring down the wrong end of the barrel of a gun was something he was too familiar with to the point it felt unnatural to go longer than a few hours without an individual or individuals aiming a weapon at his head. He'd even broken his fingers enough times to the point he just snapped them back into place as best as he could and kept them supported with white athletic tape until they healed. Cuts and burns were nothing to give a second thought about at this point. Given all that, he wasn't as bone rattling nervous about anything in his life as he was about his date with the photographer he saved the life of earlier that week.

Dean shot her a text a half hour earlier. Renee mentioned a hole-in-the-wall bar she enjoyed that wasn't outside walking distance from Dean's apartment. Arn was right about her. Though she was a stuck up news photographer from the better side of town, she seemed to like to slum it with some of the "lower life" citizens of the city in her free time.

Dean gave himself a once over in his bathroom mirror. His chosen attire was a simple black tee with his one pair of blue jeans. He reluctantly washed the garment before deciding to wear them, as he never did and they were his only pair that wasn't full of holes or torn to shreds. It wasn't going all out, but hopefully this news lady was aware of the kind of mental strain it took on Ambrose to wear anything but either his work uniform or a combat hoodie and cargo pants.

Dean grinned at his reflection. He looked good, in his own biased opinion. He felt confident this was going to go off without a hitch, but he still felt like something could go horribly wrong and he'd never have a second chance at wooing the pretty blonde. That was his over active imagination of course ruining things with scenarios that most likely wouldn't happen. Of course, he'd seen the worst of the worst unfold several dozen times in the past. Dean often wondered if having a girlfriend was even a good idea, given his choice of hobbies outside of his job.

Ambrose's messy brown hair shifted as he shook his head in disagreement with himself. Psyching himself out before even making it to the bar was not a good move to start off the evening. Adding his lucky black leather jacket to his attire, Dean grabbed his keys and headed for the door.

* * *

Murphy's Bar was surprisingly vacant for a Friday night. Dean had visited the tavern a time or two in the past and it was usually packed to the brim with local drunks needing a drink after a long week. Not tonight, however, but Dean wasn't going to break the ice with a complaint about how empty the place was.

Dean stepped into the one room saloon a few minutes early. He gave Buddy, the owner of the bar, a quick head nod and scanned the area. Just a few wage workers topping off their week with a cold brew. A few of them Dean recalled having to apprehend in the past. That made Dean chuckle internally. Had they known who he was at night, Dean would have gotten his ass kicked the second he stepped foot inside the bar.

Seated at the bar, her blonde hair and exponential beauty making her stick out like a sore thumb, Renee stared at her phone. Dean couldn't help but chuckle a bit when he saw she was also wearing a black leather jacket and raggedy blue jeans. A look that compared to the outfits she wore to the shop like night and day. Her flowing golden locks weren't pulled back into a high ponytail like the last time Dean saw her either. Instead, her hair hung freely, just barely past her jawline. She must've had it cut since Tuesday.

"This seat taken?" Dean asked the attractive woman, pointing at the bar stool next to her.

Renee's eyes flickered from her phone screen to Dean. She smirked. "Sorry, I'm waiting for someone. He's this mechanic that thought he was being sneaky staring at my chest. Let me know if you see him."

Dean chuckled dryly at that. "Yeah, sorry. Not a lot of people from the Valley come through. Y'all think you're better than us lowlifes or something."

"We are," Renee simply stated, grinning slightly again when Dean snickered and took a seat beside her.

"What's your poison?" Dean asked as he waved over the bartender.

"Make sure the mountains are blue," Renee requested with a wink.

Dean grinned. "Alright. I like your taste, Miss Photographer."

Dean gave the drink request to Murphy. The owner returned a moment later with four bottles of the requested beer, then went back to attend to a few other customers.

"So," Ambrose started, sipping at his ice cold brew. "What brings a Falls girl to the slums of Titan City?"

Renee shrugged. "I find places like this really nice. It isn't so stuck up and plastic like the crap on the other side of town. Nobody here is a phony and you know people can be for no reason. They have a couple of those 'authentic' dive bars so old, rich women won't have to risk being mugged, but they are nothing like the real things."

Dean nodded his agreement. "This place is the best. Things can be rowdy, but that gives it a personality, you know?"

"I agree," Renee stated. "My dad and I used to come here before it was Murphy's. I could never remember the name, but I just remember seeing my dad hustle people at pool because it always made me laugh."

"Oh, so your dad wasn't as prim and proper as the rest of you?" Dean asked.

Renee shook her head. "No, he was from around here. My mom made him move up to the Nearfalls when she got pregnant with me. But you can take the man out of the Valley, but you can't take the Valley out of the man. I guess that's why I love places like this so much."

Dean smiled. Renee wasn't as stuck up as he originally anticipated. That first impression gave off the illusion she was, but she was just as much as a gutter rat at heart as Dean was.

"So, Dean," Renee began. "I couldn't find you on social media. So, I have nothing on you."

Dean shook his head. "Nah, social media is garbage anyway. I like to keep things simple. No face-gram or whatever crap."

Renee giggled. "I actually had to look you up on public record to make sure you weren't a serial killer or something like that. I wasn't going to show up if police found people in your basement or something like that."

Dean started to laugh along with Renee too, but he trailed off quickly. His name was on public record for his part in the war over a decade earlier. He didn't have a criminal record, except a few arrests before he was officially Moxley, so that didn't worry him too much.

"Don't worry," Renee said, sensing Dean tense up at the mention of his record. "I think what you did for this city was very brave. And I'm sure you've heard a thousand people tell you this already, you shouldn't beat yourself up over what happened."

Dean took a long pull from his beer. He chuckled, feeling the carbonation make his eyes water slightly. "That's literally what everyone tells me," he chuckled. "I'll give you a pass though. You look great, by the way. Love the jacket."

Renee smirked. "Thanks, Dean. I like yours too. I'm kinda glad you asked me out. I haven't had a decent night out in forever."

"Ronald isn't taking you out every week?" Dean flashed a smartass grin when Renee rolled her eyes and playfully gave him the finger. "Good, I'm glad he dropped the ball."

"Yeah?" Renee polished off her beer and started working on her second. "Me too."

* * *

Renee checked her watch. It was nearing eleven o'clock.

"Shit," Renee cursed, shaking her head lightly. "I gotta get going. I have a meeting in the morning."

"Tomorrow's Saturday," Dean replied.

"Tell me about it," Renee reached into her purse to pay for her drinks.

"Don't worry about it," Dean left a hefty amount of cash on the bar. "My treat. Tonight was great."

Renee smiled. "I think so too. I had fun getting to know you a bit. Glad to know you aren't a serial killer."

Dean chuckled. "Nope. Not me."

Dean said goodnight to Murphy and led Renee back outside. The rain for once had stopped. Renee pulled out her phone.

"Do you want me to walk you home?" Dean offered. He was more looking forward to possibly taking things a step further with Renee, if she let him, and spending the night at her place.

"I'm getting a cab," Renee said. "But... Tonight was a lot of fun. Maybe we can do this again?"

Dean's stomach did a somersault when Renee lifted herself on her toes and leaned into him. Her lips were soft and tasted like strawberries. He placed a hand on the small of her back and teased her a little by tracing her top lip with his tongue, but he didn't try pushing harder. Renee's hands rested gently on his shoulders. Her right hand did lightly rest on Dean's cheek when he licked her lip, while her left squeezed him gently.

"Have a good night, Dean," Renee bid farewell as she hung up her phone and her cab pulled up.

"You too, Rey," Dean said.

Renee chuckled. "Rey, huh? I like it."

Dean couldn't keep the grin off his face as Renee stepped into her cab. He watched the car pull away and drive off down the road. His smile quickly faded when three squad cars sped past the bar and his spot on the sidewalk.

"Fuck me," Dean muttered to himself. Taking long, quick strides, Dean hurried for his apartment to quickly change into his gear and follow the police to wherever they were headed.

* * *

An abandoned warehouse outside of town was surrounded by squad cars. The top floor, two armed men with three hostages were trying to hide from police. The Titan City PD didn't dare to try and pursue the captors, in fear they opened fire on the hostages. Instead, they set up a perimeter around the building to ensure they weren't getting out of the building.

"What do we do now?" One of the men asked. "They got a barricade set up half a mile from here. We're fucked!"

"Relax, I got a plan," the other man told his partner. "We wait a little while longer, then we..."

"What?" the first man asked. His partner suddenly stopped talking. "What's wrong with you?"

"Fuck, man," the second man started crying. "Fucking shit, man!"

The first man turned around. In the faint light coming from the police cars outside, the silhouette of a man was in the corner. More bone chilling, his identifiable skull mask popped out from the darkness.

"Look, Mox, we weren't gonna do nothin'!" One of the thugs said. "Honest. These-These aren't even real guns! They're plastic."

On the outside of the warehouse, Captain John Cena arrived on the scene. He strapped on his kevlar vest, in the chance this turned into a high intensity situation. His second in command, Sergeant Ronda Rousey, was already on the scene several moments before he was. She was the one who called for the perimeter and alerted the other for backup.

"What's the situation?" Cena asked.

"Two armed men, three hostages," Rousey told. "They aren't coming down, but-"

Suddenly, one of the windows on the top floor shattered. A figure came flailing from the top floor, screaming at the top of his lungs until he hit the cement with a gut churning splat. Every police officer looked up to see the ever familiar mask of Titan City's most notorious vigilante.

"Moxley!" Cena screamed. "Don't you move!"

"Shit," Moxley muttered to himself. He turned away from the window. "Ok, plan B," he pointed at the second thug, who was clutching at his broken face and withing on the floor. "Don't fucking move."

"I won't. Just stop hitting me," the thug cried.

Moxley hurried for the stairway near the back of the room. He rapidly descended the stairs two at a time. He got three floors down, before he saw the Titan City SWAT team storming their way in the opposite direction Moxley was going. Thinking quickly, Moxley ducked into the room closest to him and closed the door.

On the other side of the room was a wall of windows like the one on the top floor. Outside, about four floors down, was a river that he was sure led back into Titan City.

"Fuck!" Moxley exclaimed. "The fuck kind of Marvel bullshit is this fucking crap?"

With the SWAT team coming closer, Moxley didn't have a lot of options left. He could hear them clearing each floor as they went along. He was not going to make it out of there in one piece if he tried the stairs.

"Fuck me," Moxley took several steps backwards. "Please be deep, please be deep, please be deep."

Moxley took a running dash at the window as the door to the floor burst open. He covered his face with his arms, hit the glass with such force the entire wall shattered, and plummeted to the murky water below.

The SWAT team couldn't see where he went. There was a splash down below, but nothing had surfaced.

"Where's Moxley?" Cena's voice called over the radio.

"Target has escaped, sir," the leader of the squad reported. "Possibly the river. We will continue searching the building for the hostages."

Cena cursed under his breath. "Not tonight, you son of a bitch. Rousey!"

"Yes sir," Rousey answered.

"Set up checkpoints in the city. We're finding this bastard tonight!" Cena ordered.

"Yes sir," Rousey replied, reaching for her radio.

Cena shook his head. "Not anymore, kid. It's over."

* * *

Bayley was growing worried. Dean was running a few minutes behind, which was fine if it weren't for the police reports on the news. The reporters were saying Moxley was at a warehouse outside town with a couple of bad people. Bayley knew Dean was smart and would make it out ok, but she still feared for his safety when she saw him being brought up on the news.

A soft knock sounded at her front door. Bayley hurried across the room and gently pulled open the door.

"Happy Birthday!" Dean exclaimed softly, handing Bayley a single cupcake. He wasn't dressed in his Moxley gear anymore, but bore the same outfit he wore when he went out with Renee earlier. "Sorry I'm a little late."

Bayley threw her arms around Dean's shoulders. "Don't be sorry. I'm just glad you're safe."

Dean winced, which Bayley took notice to right away. Pulling his hand, Bayley insisted she tend to his injuries. Despite assuring her he was fine, Dean sat on Bayley's couch when she gently yet forcefully made him sit.

"Where does it hurt?" Bayley asked.

Dean sighed. "My right shoulder. I hit the bottom of the river and I think it's dislocated."

Bayley used her hands to feel for anything unusual. "Oh, yeah. It's dislocated alright," she tugged his jacket off as gently as she could. "Ok, this might hurt a little."

Dean cried out in pain when Bayley pushed down on his shoulder to pop it back into place. A soft thunk brought a wave of heat through his body, but his shoulder wasn't hurting as much.

"I don't feel a break anywhere," Bayley observed. "It'll be sore like crazy tomorrow. Just keep putting ice on it, ok?"

Dean nodded his head. "Yeah, thanks Bayley. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Bayley giggled. "You'd probably be in jail for beating up so many bad guys."

Dean snickered. "That's probably true."

Bayley softly giggled, then picked up a bottle of whiskey from the coffee table.

"Wild Turkey whiskey?" Dean grinned. "This is some of the best shit money can buy."

"It's a special occasion," Bayley said, uncapping the bottle. "You only turn twenty-one once."

Dean took a long swig from the bottle. He moaned in pleasure, then handed the bottle over to Bayley. She hesitated for a moment, but took a drink following an encouraging look from Dean. Bayley coughed and flinched in disgust, making Dean laugh. She took another sip, then a longer pull when she got used to the taste.

"Good, right?" Dean asked.

Bayley shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. It burns."

"Yeah, it'll do that," Dean commented, taking another pull.

Bayley shifted slightly on the couch to sit on her knees. Dean gave her a once over, cocking an eyebrow curiously. Being the brave little warrior only she could be, Bayley cupped Dean's cheeks and pulled herself in and kissed him. She let it linger for a moment, then pulled away.

"Whoa," Dean chuckled, then shook his head. "Bayley, I-"

"It's ok, Dean," Bayley dropped her head. "I want to kiss you. I know you think it's a bad idea, but I want to."

Before Dean could say anything else, Bayley kissed him again. Dean leaned back against the arm rest of the couch, bringing Bayley down on top of himself. Bayley parted her lips and slid her tongue into Dean's mouth. Dean grunted, not expecting the gesture from someone like Bayley. Causing him to grunt again, Bayley started to fiddle with the buckle on his belt.

"Easy, Bay," Dean managed to say between smooches. "We don't gotta go that far. Let's stick to kissing, huh?"

"It's ok, Dean. Trust me," Bayley insisted. "I don't understand why you don't like me more than a neighbor."

"Bayley, you really are one of my best friends," Dean's voice died momentarily when his jeans slid past his waistline. "Bayley, listen please."

Bayley sighed. "I hear you, Dean. I just don't get why we can't date. Like, what's wrong with me that you don't want to go out with me."

"I'm Jon freakin' Moxley, Bay," Dean said. "If word got around who I really was, and that got back to you, someone very bad could hurt you. And I'd never be able to live with myself if you got hurt. You're like a little sister to me, ok? I have to make sure nothing bad happens to you ever."

Bayley slowly nodded her head. She pulled Dean's pants back up and re-fastened his belt. "Sorry," she said bashfully.

"Hey, I was enjoying it. I think you can tell," Dean chuckled, as did Bayley. "But we don't have to do that, ok? You and I have the kind of friendship that doesn't need to involve sex and stuff like that."

"You won't ever have a girlfriend? Even with a girl who isn't me?" Bayley asked.

Dean thought about Renee. Would he ever lock it down and date her regularly? Maybe, but balancing his personal life and vigilante life was already hard already. Adding a girlfriend to that would surely make things more complicated.

"I don't know," Dean admitted. "Maybe, but maybe not. Time will tell. If I do want a girlfriend, and I don't meet someone, I'll ask you first."

Bayley smiled at that. "I would love to be your girlfriend, Dean. But..."

"Moxley doesn't date," Dean said with a grin. "Dean does though."

Bayley nodded. "I get it. Sorry I made things weird."

"You didn't. Trust me. How about you eat your cupcake and we put on a movie?" Dean suggested.

Bayley nodded her agreement and sat on the couch normal. While Dean searched the titles for a movie he knew Bayley would like, Bayley nibbled at her birthday cupcake.

Dean sighed. Things would've gotten complicated fast, but luckily Bayley was understanding.

"Maybe in a different life," Dean thought solemnly with a frown. He wondered if he'd have to have the same talk with Renee at some point. Probably, but Dean was going to worry about that when the time came.


	5. Complications Come Easy

Once in a blue moon, Dean had to work on a Saturday. It only really occurred when repairs were backed up or he had to help out with inventory. This particular Saturday had both going on. Zelina called Dean early that morning and asked him to come in to help run the front counter while she did inventory and a few others finished up in the shop. Dean stared at his phone, his thumb hovering over the red end call button, and considered losing his job over sleep. Zelina then promised to buy him a drink afterwards and Dean reluctantly agreed.

Dean's hangover wasn't the worst he ever had in his life. His throat was as dry as the Sahara and the three headache relievers he'd taken was taking its time relieving the blinding migraine he was experiencing. Bayley had known what she was doing when picking out her choice of alcohol and Dean both hated and adored her for that.

"Dean,  _muchas gracias,"_  Zelina addressed her employee of the month in a abnormally soft voice and a hot cup of coffee. "I know it's a pain in the ass to come in on a Saturday, but you're the only one I can fully rely on."

Dean sipped greedily at the cup of joe; Coffee always did feel good after a night of drinking. He shook his head. "Don't sweat it, Z," he said, playing it off like he didn't care that he was at the shop during the weekend, though he wished he was still in bed and sound asleep. "You needed a few extra hands and I'm more than ok with helpin' you out. You got me this job when I got discharged. Working a few Saturdays is the least I can do."

Zelina uncharacteristically smiled warmly, which threw Dean off for a moment, then entered her office and closed the door. Dean furrowed his brow, wondering why exactly Zelina was acting so nice to him over the last few days. She'd screamed at him almost everyday for the last couple years. Now this week she was giving him bonuses and talking to him in a normal volume.

Dean shrugged. "Maybe she's finally come to terms with her undying love for me," he chuckled. That would be the last thing that would happen, in this instance.

Dean slid his hands over his tired eyes, trying to keep himself awake for the rest of his shift. The bell above the door rang. Dean didn't feel a presence approach the counter. Instead, a few voices filled the lobby.

A man in a smart looking dark blue business suit stood in the middle of a three person production crew; A guy with a camera, one with a boom mic and the third, an African American woman with a figure WAY to good to be wasted on being a production assistant, taking notes of whatever the guy in the suit was saying.

The man, Dean recognized instantly from his many billboards, commercials and unmistakable blonde hair, was mayoral candidate Cody Rhodes.

"Can I help you folks today?" Dean asked over the light chatter, bringing the group's attention fully to him.

Cody grinned, which more or less was his campaign trademark. "Thank you, sir. I appreciate the hospitality. Yes, actually, you can help us. Would it be alright if I spoke with a manager or supervisor?"

Cody's candor didn't exactly scream 'working for the bad guys', but Dean had been fooled before. If what Nikki had said was true, and this guy was trying to work with a supposedly dead gang, then Cody had a really good way of hiding it from the surface. Then again, maybe this whole mayor campaign was a way to throw his scent off the trail.

"Here or the fast food place across the street?" Dean replied, laying the sarcasm on thickly.

Cody laughed an obvious fake and stiff chuckle, a half second later being joined by his crew. "Humorous, how fun," Cody cleared his throat. "Here, preferably."

Dean pushed off his stool and headed for Zelina's office. He rapped lightly on the finished wood with his knuckles, then let himself in after Zelina asked him to enter.

"Yes?" Zelina asked, drawing out the word while her fingertips rapidly typed at her desktop computer.

"The next mayor of Titan City would like to speak to you, ma'am," Dean said.

Zelina furrowed her brow, turning her attention away from her computer. "What? Next mayor of Titan City?"

Dean nodded his head towards the front lobby. "Cody Rhodes is here and he wants to speak to you. I don't know why, but the guy is annoying the fuck out of me."

Zelina grinned as she stood up from her chair. "And your first thought was to make me deal with his  _siento culo?"_

Dean shrugged. "That's what he wanted. Tried to tell him you were five feet of terror."

Zelina rolled her eyes and moved past Ambrose. Dean followed his boss into the lobby.

"Mr Rhodes," Zelina greeted the blonde man. "What can I do for you?"

Rhodes turned away from the camera. "Oh, you are the manager here?"

Zelina nodded. "Acting owner, supervisor and manager. Zelina Vega," she held out her hand, offering a handshake.

Rhodes accepted her handshake, gently locking his bigger hand over her's and shaking his arm once. "Call me Cody, please, Mr Rhodes was my father," the young politician flashed Zelina another cheesy grin that made Dean roll his eyes and cringe. "It's great to see a woman in today's world have so much opportunity to own and operate their own business. I understand this is the most requested auto body shop in the city. I had to meet the people behind its success."

"Ah, you want to visit the  _Latino_  part of town to make yourself look good for the campaign?" Zelina asked, earning a quick chuckle from Dean. "Figured there was a reason you'd risk tarnishing your image by coming to LAX. I'll bite. What do you want?"

Cody's smile actually faded from his face. "Look, I think we all know this political scene is total bullshit, right? People these days don't give a rat's ass about your policies or what laws your people are going to pass. It's whoever has a better complexion and a million dollar smile. I could tell you all day about my policies, but sixty-five percent of this city is women under forty-five. Which means statistically, no offense to you, miss, they want someone young, strong and with that heartthrob mentality. My opponent, Stephanie McMahon, isn't something a housewife would get her rocks off to. That's why I'm here, to make myself seem more..."

"Fuckable to the average housewife?" Dean asked.

Cody snapped his fingers. "Exactly. So, bullshit aside, can you stand here and answer a few questions about this place? I'll offer you guys a little payment for your troubles."

"This guy's good," Dean thought to himself. The bright and smiling politician was just a normal guy with a gutter mouth like the rest of the people in Titan City. Then again, the way he flipped the switch from 'kissing babies and shaking hands' to 'fuck this and fuck that' did unnerve Dean a little. Maybe that quick temper was enough to consider what Nikki claimed the other day wasn't a complete lie.

"Sure, just tell me what to do," Zelina said.

Cody grinned again. "Fantastic. Just stand beside me and look into the camera..."

* * *

The end of the day came swiftly after Cody Rhodes's visit. Inventory wasn't as bad as Zelina thought and the few repairs that came through the system were done before lunch. Now nearing mid-day, Dean and Zelina sat in her office while she triple-checked to make sure every note she had taken for inventory was correctly documented on her computer.

To help pass the time, Zelina held up her promise of booze by withdrawing a bottle of tequila from her desk and pouring herself and Dean a few glasses. Dean didn't want to be drunk later on when he went on patrol, so he politely declined a fourth glass and decided he was done for the day.

"Thank you again for coming in today," Zelina said, clicking the keys on her computer as she spoke. "I know it's a hassle and everything and that Rhodes  _idiota_  coming in was a pain in the ass."

Dean shook his head. "No, it's fine, Z. Really. I don't mind coming in. Like I said, I owe you. I probably wouldn't have a job here if it wasn't for you."

Zelina grinned. "Did I ever tell you I told Camacho to hire you? It was either you or some druggie that just got out of jail. Camacho almost hired him, because he was an old friend, but I told him to hire you instead."

"Really? No, I never knew that," Dean chuckled. "Did you have a crush on me back in the day and hiring me was the only way you could talk to me on a daily basis?"

Zelina blushed and turned her head away. Dean furrowed his brow, not expecting that reaction to his accusation at all.

"Wait, for real?" Dean asked.

"I've had too much tequila," Zelina tried to reason. "I should stop talking."

Dean sat back in his chair. "Wow, I can't believe I never noticed that. Small and feisty Zelina Vega got me hired because she had a thing for me."

"How about we drop it, ok?" Zelina tapped a few more times at her computer. "I'm almost done. Then we can lock up."

Dean checked his watch. "Shit, it's barely two. I don't know what to do with all this free time. Usually I'm out of this place by five or six."

"I'm taking a nap when I get home," Zelina stated. "Then ordering some takeout and trying to enjoy the rest of the weekend. What about you?"

"Patrol the harbor, beat up some thugs, kick a pimp in the face," Dean mused with a snicker. "Uh, probably the same," he said out loud. "Take a nap, fall into a drunken stupor and order some pizza."

Zelina smiled at that. "Sounds like a good way to spend a Saturday."

Not long after, Zelina was locking the front door to Camacho's. She waved goodbye to Dean, then set off in opposite direction he was headed in; She was lucky enough to have a car, but Dean didn't have long to walk anyway.

Just as Dean crossed the street, he heard Zelina's voice address someone. She was speaking Spanish, so Dean didn't know what she was saying exactly, but her tone made him stop and turn around. Zelina was standing by her car. In front of her where two men twice her size looming over her with a sense that made Dean figure they weren't asking for directions or the time of day.

"Hey!" Dean yelled, retracing his steps back to Camacho's. The two would be thugs turned towards him, as did Zelina. "What the fuck are you two doing?"

"What's it to you,  _pendejo?"_  One of the thugs snapped. "Why don't you just keep walking, eh? Nobody needs to get hurt for playing hero."

Dean laughed internally at the irony of that comment. "Well,  _pendejo,_  I don't play hero, but I don't go picking on girls either."

The second guy lifted his shirt, showing Dean he had a gun tucked in his waistband. "Walk away,  _ese,"_  he said in a low and threatening tone. "Nobody needs to get hurt here."

"Wow, alright, I'm walking away," Dean raised his hands, implying he was backing off. "But you might want to check the safety on that thing."

The thug stupidly looked down at his gun. Dean took the moment of distraction and kicked the thug directly in the forehead. The man hit the ground and Dean was on his buddy before the dust settled. Dean tackled the other thug, bouncing off the hood of Zelina's car and rolling over onto the pavement. Dean hopped to his feet and booted the guy in his face. The first thug staggered to his feet and reached for his gun. Dean kicked the weapon out of his hand, pulled him by the arm, hit the joint in his elbow with his fist, then swept his legs out from under him and struck him with his palm directly on the nose.

Dean picked up the gun and handed it to Zelina. The two thugs helped each other up and hurried as fast as they could from the scene.

"I thought you called the shots around here," Dean said to Zelina, trying to catch his breath.

Zelina looked at Dean in awe. "I do. Some people don't like it though."

Dean wiped off his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt. "Army, for a year. Some karate in there too."

Zelina looked Dean over; Dean had seen that look of shock and awe a thousand times in a million different faces. It was never something he wouldn't find hilarious.

"Anyway," Dean started walking away. "See you Monday."

"Wait," Zelina said, stopping Dean. "Let me give you a ride home."

"I just live a few blocks-"

"Dean," Zelina said again, sternly making sure he knew how serious she was. "Let me give you a ride home."

Deciding not to argue with his boss, Dean agreed and got in Zelina's car.

* * *

Dean was still trying to catch his breath, but not because of the fight he just got into outside Camacho's. The reason for his state of fatigue was the small Latina curled up under his arm. Dean stared at the ceiling of his bedroom, replaying the events in the day that led up to him taking his boss back to his apartment.

"So," Dean began, breaking the silence. "About that pay raise."

Zelina lightly slapped Dean's chest.  _"Sabelotodo,"_  she lightly chastised, then kissed the spot on Dean's torso she struck. "Thank you for helping me back there. Not the inventory this time."

Dean snickered. "Thank you for doing that thing with your mouth. THAT was awesome."

Zelina nestled her face in Dean's shoulder. "I've thought about this moment for a decade. What it would feel like after."

Dean sighed. Being him and trying to have a relationship was never going to be a good idea. The moments leading up to now, it never crossed his mind that he and Zelina having sex would be more than a spur of the moment kind of thing. But he remembered how she told him she had a crush on him since he returned home from the military. Obviously, her feelings hadn't changed at all since then.

"If I knew you were that good at taking dick, I would've asked you sooner," Dean joked.

Zelina scoffed.  _"Idiota."_

"I'm just teasing you, Z. I've been doing it the last ten years. I thought you'd know what's that like by now." Dean said.

Zelina lifted herself on her elbow. She pressed her lips gently against Dean's then slid out of bed and put on the raggedy t-shirt Dean was wearing before under his work shirt. Zelina flashed Dean a grin before entering his bathroom and closing the door.

"Fuck," Dean muttered to himself. Being Jon Moxley and having a girlfriend was surely a mistake, but being Dean Ambrose and sleeping with his boss was probably going to be the end of him.

Dean's phone started to ring. The number was saved to his phone, but he forgot to put in a name from the looks of it.

"Yeah?" Dean answered.

"Hey, Dean, it's Renee," speaking of complicated. "I know we're supposed to wait a few days before calling again, but I had a nice time last night. Do you think we can get together again?"

Dean heard the toilet in his bathroom flush. Renee was asking him out again, and she was blonde, hot and the sweetest girl he ever met, but he just had a moment of serenity with Zelina, who was Latina, feisty and not afraid to tell people what she thought of them. Plus, he and Zelina had history. Dean barely knew Renee. And, on top of all that, he was still Jon Moxley by night.

"Uh, sure, actually," Dean said. "How about tomorrow afternoon? Lunch get together?"

"Sure, that sounds great," Renee said. "I'll text you later, ok?"

Dean hung up the phone just as Zelina exited the bathroom. Without a word, the stunning, dark haired woman crawled back into bed. She raked her fingers through Dean's unruly hair and kissed his chin.

"How about you take a shower and I order us some pizza?" Zelina offered.

Dean grinned. "Holy shit, you are awesome."

Zelina smirked. "Treat me right and there will be more where that came from, Ambrose."

"Shut that shit down right now!" Dean mentally screamed at himself. On the surface, he shared a drawn out kiss with Zelina.

Dean shuffled into the bathroom while Zelina made the call to Nunzio's, the local pizza place. A warm shower after getting in a fight and having sex turned out to be the right call. The curtain slacked, then pulled tight again. Through his shampoo, Dean couldn't see what was happening. His sense were on edge, ready for anything, but he calmed quickly as a pair of arms hugged him and two breasts pressed against his chest.

The shower with Zelina stayed pretty PG; Nothing more than a few kisses here and there. Afterwards, Dean and his boss waited in the living room for the pizza to arrive. Zelina changed into a t-shirt of Dean's that wasn't worn in the auto shop. Dean agreed to let her borrow his shirt, but he dreaded to ask how long she was planning on staying.

While Zelina and Dean waited, a commercial came on with Cody Rhodes's face introducing himself. The next scene was that of before in Camacho's earlier that day.

"Shit, that fucker moves fast," Dean commented.

Zelina shrugged. "I might vote for him. He doesn't seem like a normal politician. I kinda like that."

Dean got up from the couch when a knock came at the door. He considered fetching his knife before answering, but he didn't want Zelina to think he was more of a lunatic than she already did. It was only the pizza delivery guy, Dean discovered. After tipping him a decent amount, Dean started to head back for his apartment.

"Dean!" Dean turned back into the hall to see the building's resident nurse, Bayley, hurrying towards his door.

"Hey, Bay, how's your head feelin'?" Dean asked.

Bayley groaned. "Horrible. I'm hungover as heck. How are you..." Her voice trailed off.

Dean followed Bayley's line of sight to Zelina, who had made her way to Dean's side.

"Hi," Bayley said with half a smile. "I'm Bayley. I live up the hall. I'm a friend of Dean's."

Zelina grinned, shaking hands with Bayley. "I'm Zelina. I'm... Well, his boss."

Bayley's eyebrows raised up her forehead. "Oh. Then I guess he shouldn't have a problem getting promoted," she joked with a laugh.

Zelina laughed too. "No, most likely not."

"Well, Dean it was nice seeing you," Bayley said. "I gotta get my puppy from the vet. I'll see you later."

Dean hated seeing disappointment in people's eyes. As Bayley said goodbye, that was the only emotion he could see in her baby browns. He tried to tell her nothing would happen with them, then the next day he went and slept with his boss.

"Shit," Dean thought with a sigh. Of all the people that didn't need to have their heartbroken, Bayley was near the top of that list.

Dean and Zelina sat back down on Dean's couch and dug into the pizza and cheese bread Zelina ordered.

* * *

Dean managed to slip away from Zelina around midnight. After lunch, they watched tv together and Dean fell asleep. After waking up, Dean saw Zelina hadn't left still and took that as a sign that she was staying over. For dinner, they ate the left overs from lunch. Dean ended the first part of the night with Zelina riding his waist while her chest heaved and she moaned his name. Dean pretended to be asleep for an hour just to make sure Zelina didn't wake up. When he was sure she was dead asleep, Dean quickly changed into his Moxley gear and took off.

Dean didn't remember hiding his gear or knife, but he apparently did and saved himself from being caught by Zelina. Had his knife been in the table, or his gear displayed in his room, Dean would've gotten caught and he didn't know how Zelina would respond to the discovery. Though, because Moxley was responsible for her cousin's imprisonment, Dean could figure she'd be far from happy.

The harbor is where Moxley was headed. He hadn't been there in a while, since it was rarely a place of interest for local gangs, but he didn't think it would hurt to check on it every once in a while. Especially now, if shipments were coming in from Japan.

Moxley tiptoed up to the front fence. It was locked up during the night, but people still found ways to get in. Moxley scaled the fence and hopped over the top.

Just outside his line of vision, Moxley saw a few people walking around. Some of the locals night fished, but they didn't seem the type. They waited by the docks while a third person drove up in a speedboat. Easy and discreet transport from a larger ship, Moxley came to learn over the years. It could just be a coincidence, but it could be worth taking a look.

The third man killed the engine and jumped on the dock. The three men chatted for a moment, then walked off towards the storage units around the docks. Moxley saw that as his chance to check out the boat. He hopped aboard. Towards the back, hidden under a sheet, Moxley noticed a few large crates.

Moxley lifted the sheet. "Mother fucker..." He muttered, taking in the image of a skull and crossbones, but two assault rifles instead of bones for the crossbones; This was the unmistakable calling card of the Bullet Club.

Moxley heard a few voices headed back in his direction. Crouching as low as possible, Moxley got out of the boat and hurried back for the front entrance of the docks.


	6. Lying is the Easy Part

Dean's suspicions about the return of one of the most dangerous gangs in the nation happened to be unfortunately correct. The skull and crossbones on those shipping crates all but confirmed that operations began again. Dean wanted to linger back and follow the three goons to their meeting place and see if he could catch them in the act and find out more about the Bullet Club and Cody Rhodes' assumed tie ins to the organization.

Dean's patrol was cut short with a brief text from his boss turned lover. Zelina was wondering where Ambrose had run off to, claiming she woke up and found him absent from his side of the bed. Dean sighed heavily, momentarily regretting ever letting his employer go with him to his apartment and sleeping with her. His regret turned around entirely when the alluring Latina sent her employee a topless photo with a "hurry home, I'm cold" caption. Dean assured the woman he would be back in a flash.

Through his many adventures as Jon Moxley, Dean learned quickly how to scale the fire escape up to his apartment with little to no noise pollution. The first time he tried to return home via the metal staircase, Dean slipped off the dumpster he used to project himself high enough to grab the low hanging ladder and ultimately pulled a rung loose and practically woke up the neighborhood when the entire ladder came crashing down. Dean's attempts after the first mishap quieted down entirely.

Dean stealthily lifted a window and slipped inside his home. He heard Zelina sneeze in his bedroom. Luckily the door was shut and, as far as Dean knew, Zelina couldn't see him. Dean quickly stripped off his Moxley gear and tucked it away under the sink along with his trusty knife.

Dean locked the cabinet under the sink just as the kitchen let flipped on and Zelina made her presence known with a cocked eyebrow.

"Is there a reason you're sneaking around your kitchen in your underwear,  _hombre?"_  Zelina asked, her voice slightly raspy from slumber.

Dean shook his head. "Just getting some water. I'm sorry I woke you."

Zelina grinned, seemingly buying Dean's excuse. "It's alright, Dean. How about you come back to bed?"

Dean agreed with a nod. When Zelina's back was turned, Dean checked one more time to make sure the cabinet was latched shut. It was, but the state of the lock was going to bother Dean for the rest of the time Zelina was around.

After a few moments of soft moans and Zelina's head bobbing in his lap, Dean exhaled sharply and watched the tiny woman who took up most of his evening sit back on her feet and gulp down the work she put in for him. Zelina excused herself to rinse out her mouth. Dean stared up at the ceiling, weighing the pros and cons of keeping this relationship with Zelina.

Zelina re-emerged from the restroom with her signature toothy grin. She crawled under the covers of Dean's bed and snuggled close to the man of her affections.

"Where did you go?" Zelina asked, tracing light patterns on Dean's untrimmed chest with her fingertips.

"Just a walk around the block," Dean lied a little too easily. "When I got shit in my head I like to get some air to clear the clutter."

Zelina pecked the underside of Dean's jaw. "You could've woken me up and talked to me," she offered, kissing him again on the lips.

"Yeah, but you look sexy as hell when you're asleep," Dean flirted, causing a string of giggles from Zelina. "All exhausted after we did it. It was hot. I couldn't ruin it."

Zelina smiled softly. She rested her head on Dean's shoulder, angling herself to make eye contact with the man. "Do you think this is something you want to do? I mean more than just hooking up though."

Dean chuckled. "Zelina Vega, are you asking me to be your boyfriend?"

Zelina smiled. "Yeah. I am. _Me gustas mucho._ I think you and I would be good together."

Most of Dean's attention was still on finding out more about Bullet Club and their supposed business down by the docks. The three people he saw weren't familiar, but they unmistakably had something to do with the nefarious group. Maybe they were going to return the next night, or maybe Dean missed his only shot. But it wasn't going to hurt to try again, especially since hundreds of lives were possible at stake.

Feeling his blood start to boil, Dean turned to the woman under his arm. Zelina gasped in shock when Dean flipped her over. Dean crushed his lips against Zelina's neck, harshly spread her shapely legs and entered her from behind.

"Dean!" Zelina gasped.  _"Oh Dios mío. Te sientes tan bien, papi._ Is that a yes then?"

Dean grunted. "Shit, yeah. I'll be your guy, Z." As the words left his mouth, and his hips thrust against Zelina, Dean momentarily thought of Renee and Bayley. Two women in his life, one of whom he was supposed to meet for lunch in a few hours. "Fuck," Dean muttered out loud. In less than a few days, his entire situation went from controlled to chaotic.

Zelina continued cursing under her breath. Dean tried like hell to calm himself down and focus on Zelina and her dark eyes watching him over her shoulder. Dean gave her a playful smack on the rear, making the woman giggle with glee, but his mind was else placed at the moment.

* * *

Zelina finally left the apartment before Dean's date with Renee. Dean kissed his boss goodbye and watched her leave. At the same time, Bayley left her apartment in her work uniform. Zelina and Bayley greeted each other warmly. The look the young woman gave Dean was not as welcoming, however. Bayley made eye contact with her neighbor for a brief moment before she sighed and shook her head. Dean mentally reminded himself to talk to Bayley when he got home from meeting with Renee.

Murphy's Bar was once again the place Renee picked. Dean straightened his leather jacket to try and get the look of homelessness off himself. He showered beforehand but worried Renee may pick up on the fact that he had sex with someone before coming to meet her.

Renee smiled at her date. "Hey, stranger," she stood from her chair and gently embraced Dean. Dean wasn't used to people being so openly affectionate towards him, except Bayley, but he was secretly starting to warm up to it.

"Did you order yet?" Dean asked, taking a seat at the bar beside the pretty blonde woman.

"No, but there's this burger called Murphy's Law that looks freaking amazing," Renee pointed out, looking across the bar at the menu. "A chicken breast and two meat patties. I think I'm in heaven."

"I always get mine with extra pepper jack," Dean commented. "Murphy doesn't go easy on the mushrooms or onion straws though. Just a little heads up."

"Look at you looking out for little ol' me," Renee chuckled.

"Well I couldn't stop thinking about that kiss the other day," Dean smirked. "To be honest, I was pretty thrilled when you called."

"Yeah? I'm glad you decided to come out with me," Renee placed her hand over Dean's elbow. "There's plenty more if you're up for it."

Renee leaned in for a kiss. Dean felt his lips brush against Renee's, inhaling her perfume and tasting strawberry lipgloss. Zelina was feisty and ready to jump in bed at a moments notice but Dean always adored a good kisser. Bayley was better than most too. Dean sighed as he sat back, thinking about the two other women in his life. Renee took that as a sigh of joy and squeezed Dean's knee.

"I like you, Dean," Renee admitted with a soft smile. "You have a presence about you that makes you..."

"Interesting?" Dean guessed.

Renee shrugged. "Sure. That works."

Dean ordered himself and Renee a few beers and two house specials. Renee didn't shy away from digging into her food in front of Dean. Dean, not wanting Renee to think he was holding back to seem more gentlemanly in front of his date, dove into his sandwich and side of fries.

Renee let out a low belch. "Shit, this is good."

"Glad you like it, girlie," Murphy, the owner and bartender, said with a grin. "Came up with it myself. It's Dean's favorite."

"It's fucking amazing," Dean stated. Just as he said that a squad car zipped past the bar. Dean started to talk to get the distraction off his mind but then three more police cars zoomed by with a firetruck close behind. "Uh..." Dean muttered, trying to think of what to say. "Sorry to cut this short, Rey, but I gotta get goin' soon."

Renee cocked an eyebrow. "Why? It's Sunday."

"I have to help with inventory and shit," Dean flashed a fake smile as another fire engine sped past. "Nobody else is worth a damn at that place anyway."

Renee nodded her head. "Sure. It's alright. I'll take the rest of my burger to go."

Dean walked Renee out the back door of Murphy's. He left his gear bag further down the alley. If Dean could shake Renee quick enough, he could retrieve his bag and hurry for whatever trouble was nearby.

"Why are you really bailing out on me?" Renee insisted, cocking her head to the side. "Don't try and bullshit me either, Dean. I can read lies from a mile away."

Dean sighed. "I have to work-"

"No you don't," Renee interrupted. "Is it something I did? Do you not like me anymore? Am I not your type or something? Just be honest."

"I can't. For your own safety, I can never tell you the truth," Dean mused to himself. Instead of talking, Dean quickly stepped to Renee. He firmly but gently pushed her against the outer wall of Murphy's and crushed his lips against hers. Thankfully, she slid her hands around his shoulders and pulled him closer. "Honest to God truth? I want to fuck you right here but I don't want to screw this up," Dean whispered in Renee's ear under his breath. As he spoke, Dean couldn't believe how true he was being. He liked Renee a lot and saw a future with her that he never thought he could ever have. That being said, should he have to reveal to her who he was at night, Dean was not quite ready to think that part through. "I want to kiss you everywhere and make you feel good. But I also want to go to lunch at a shit dive bar on a Sunday with you. Do you get me?"

Renee chuckled under her breath. "You better not fucking leave me now. No sir."

Dean stepped back. "I gotta go. Really."

"After that?" Renee scoffed. "You're gonna go zero to a thousand and not follow up? Do you think playing hard to get is going to work? Because it is."

Dean smirked, Renee did as well. Dean offered one more kiss to Renee's lips, even giving her a small pat on the ass. Renee giggled and lightly ran her hand over the front of Dean's pants. Dean rolled his eyes, muttered "sinner" under his breath, then pecked Renee one more time and hurried down the alleyway.

Dean paused around the corner to watch Renee leave. She returned into Murphy's bar. Dean took his chance to grab his bag. Now he just needed to change quick into his gear and hurry to where the city needed him.


	7. Talk About Complicated

_"PFC Ambrose thinks he's hot shit cuz he scored the highest in hand-to-hand combat."_

_Ambrose snickered. "Well, I am the fuckin' best! I can't have you fuckers thinking I'm gettin' soft over here."_

_"They got a pill just in case you do."_

_"Yeah, your mama didn't think I had any trouble the other night."_

_The joking matter between brothers in arms quickly stopped with the distant sounds of gunfire. Ambrose's squad leader signaled for everyone to take cover. Ambrose ducked behind a massive heap of rubble. He recognized it as an old library. The fact that it used to be a building of learning didn't make Ambrose that mad, but the fact that he knew the city wouldn't do shit to help re-build it really boiled his blood._

_"Thousand bucks says I bag a Chameleon tonight!"_

_Ambrose rolled his eyes. "Good fuckin' luck with th-"_

_Ambrose hardly had time to finish his thought before an eardrum bursting explosion detonated mere feet from his position. Ambrose was thrown backward into another member of his squad. Ambrose's head cracked against the concrete, forcing him into unconsciousness._

* * *

Dean sat up in a cold sweat. Nightmares. Dean fucking hated nightmares. He had a measly twelve months as a man in a military uniform, but seven of those months were spent marching through the ruins of the part of Titan City that was now known as 'The Swamp'. It used to be a bustling suburb much like Kickout Valley, but it was barricaded off from outsiders and housed strictly the Supers who posed a lesser threat to the citizens without special abilities. Ambrose couldn't recall what The Swamp was called prior to the war, but he didn't particularly care about any of that anyway.

Dean's chapped hands ruffled through his sweat-soaked hair then came to rest on his pale face. He heard the trope before, but the city may have moved on from the seemingly never-ending battle but Dean knew there was no Cinderella ending for him at the end of this in regards to his troubled mind.

The buzzing of his cellphone brought Dean's attention from his rough night. It started with a fire in an office building, transitioned into foiling a drug deal, then ended with more recognizes at Suplex City in hopes of digging up more on the Bullet Club. No such luck came from Nikki, but Dean didn't mind his evening being wasted since the busty brunette was more than eager to shed her top for a few dollar bills.

Dean slid his thumb across his phone's screen. "Yeah?" He answered, rubbing his tired eyes with his free hand.

"Dean? Where are you?" It was Zelina. Her tone sounded all but pleased, which was a disappointment since they were apparently supposed to be a couple now.

"I'm at home. Why?" Dean asked.

Zelina scoffed into her end. "You're two hours late,  _pendejo!_  I've been calling you all morning!"

Dean checked his bedside alarm clock. Instead of the correct time, the four red numbers were zeroed out and blinking, meaning that the power had gone out during the night.

"Fuck," Dean cursed under his breath. "I'll be there soon, Z. I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, you will be." The fiery Latina snapped.

Dean quickly scrambled out of bed. His legs were sore and he didn't want to have to make the trek to work, but he also didn't want his boss banging down his door either. Despite his pain, Ambrose collected his uniform and hurried to the best of his abilities to the front door.

* * *

Dean slipped in the back entrance of Camacho's like he did every day. Instead of Andrade asleep at the table or Arn coughing up a lung, nobody was waiting in the employee break room. Dean fixed himself a cup of coffee like he did every other morning. The walk was enough to get his blood flowing and the light rain made him more spaciously aware, but coffee was still a key factor in every morning routine.

Dean poured some creamer into his cup and started for the front counter.

"AMBROSE!"

Dean jumped back, nearly bumping into his tiny boss, and nearly spilled his hot beverage over his work shirt.

"Jesus! What?!" Ambrose snapped at the woman who caught him off guard.

Zelina cocked her eyebrow. "Who in the hell do you think you're talking to?  _No me importa quién eres, te desmembraré!"_

Dean had an argument ready to fire back at Zelina, but he simply didn't have the energy to fight with her. With a look of shock spreading over Zelina's face, Dean took a seat at the metal table in the break room instead of shooting back with his usual sarcastic comment.

"Am I fired?" Ambrose asked, sipping steadily at his drink.

Zelina crossed her arms. "What's wrong with you? You look like shit, Ambrose."

Dean winced at the building irritation in his hand. The heat from his coffee was transferring itself onto a cut he had bandaged with some gauze. Of course, in Dean's hurried exit from his apartment, he had forgotten to change the bandage.

"I just had a bad fuckin' nightmare," the secret vigilante shook his head. "I didn't mean to be late, Z. I'm sorry. It was just a rough night."

"What else happened?" Zelina asked, taking a seat beside her employee.

"I punched out a glass window so an old lady and her dog could get the fuck out of a burning building. Oh, I also beat down four people with my busted up hand. But at least I got a lap dance from a chick with huge titties." Ambrose mused that all to himself in his mind. It would most likely lead to his death had he actually said that out loud. "Just fucking bad dreams," he said out loud. "Cut my hand trying to wash dishes. I forgot I had a knife in the sink."

Zelina loosely gripped Dean's hand just below the palm. "I'm sorry,  _papi._ I didn't mean to yell on the phone," she chuckled. "I was more worried about you being sick or lost before I was angry about you missing work."

"And give up the chance of seeing you?" Dean joked, earning a light giggle from his boss. "Don't think I forgot our conversation yesterday. You look great today, by the way."

Zelina's sparkling dark brown eyes dropped to the floor out of bashfulness. Her usual black business casual dress did match her hair perfectly and gave her an angel-like beauty. Dean loved seeing Zelina in fancy dresses almost as much as he loved seeing said dress crumpled up on his bedroom floor while its owner laid next to him in bed. Almost.

"You think you're ok enough to watch the front counter?" Zelina asked in an uncharacteristic soft tone.

Dean nodded. "I'm tough. I can handle this shit."

Zelina chuckled. "Good. Because it was either you or me and there was no way I was doing it."

Dean leaned forward. The two coworkers shared a brief kiss, but it still displayed the open affection they felt for one another.

"Join me for lunch?" Zelina asked.

Dean nodded. "Yeah, of course. I'll order us some sushi from Kai En Tai's ok?"

* * *

Shortly after the seafood arrived at half-past twelve, Zelina ushered Dean into her office and locked the door. Dean's lunch break started with a seat in his boss' office chair while she knelt in front of him to help "ease his pain." Zelina Vega was an open vegetarian, but she had no problem with the mass amount of protein Ambrose offered her for her "healing" efforts. Zelina washed down her appetizer with a bottle of water and actually enjoyed the seafood Ambrose bought for each of them. Dean felt a little uneasy about eating with his boss seated in his lap, but he also didn't mind it either.

The rest of the workday seemed less tedious than it usually felt. Zelina kept a professional presence throughout the day, not counting lunch, and kept mostly to her office work. She did saunter into the main lobby to steal a kiss or two from Dean when she got a cup of coffee, but that was about it for that.

Five long hours later, it was time for Dean to head home. He waited in the parking lot for Zelina to wrap up her work and join him for a hopefully quick goodbye.

"You sure you don't want any company?" Zelina asked with a sultry smile.

"As much as I loved our lunch hook-up, I'm mostly just going to be asleep until next week," Dean said. He was trying to make up an excuse, but that statement was more factual than he initially intended.

"Maybe I'll stop by later," Zelina suggested. "I have a few errands to run. Just leave the door unlocked, ok?"

Dean smirked. "Just make sure to lock it before you crawl into bed with me, all right?"

Zelina smiled brightly. "Yes,  _papi."_  She stood on her toes and planted a soft kiss to Dean's lips. "I'll see you later."

Dean said goodbye one last time to his new girlfriend and employer. Parts of him dreaded that at any moment she would somehow figure out he was the vigilante that had the city's crime detail on high alert, but he also knew that if she hadn't figure it out by now then it was probably going to be a little while before she actually did finally put the pieces of the puzzle together.

Dean's quick jaunt home was just that: fast and easy. He bounded up the steps two at a time on his tired and sore legs until he reached his floor. Because Bayley was more or less his best friend, Dean knew her work schedule as well as his own and knew she wouldn't be there to chat him up and further delay his mission to go back to bed before having to patrol the city later in the evening.

Dean stepped into the shower for a hot rinse before bed. His hand was still badly beaten up, but the suds and high-quality H2O felt nice on the raw and bloody skin.

With a fresh pair of shorts, a sleeveless tee, and a new gauze wrap around his injured hand, Ambrose shuffled into his bedroom for a good night's rest.

Unfortunately, for the tired hero of Titan City, just as he sat on the edge of his bed the undeniable sound of his front door opening suddenly flooded his ears and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Dean gave his tired state the benefit of the doubt and tried to push it off as just hearing things, but his front door suddenly slamming shut caused him to fly across the room and arm himself with his trusty dagger.

Ambrose pressed himself against the doorway of his bedroom entrance. He peaked the corner, ready to see a group of burglars stealing his belongings. Instead, staring directly at him, was a dark-haired Italian woman in a black leather jacket.

"What the fuck are you doing?" The woman asked, shaking her head side to side with an annoyed expression slapped across her face.

Dean stepped into the room with fire in his veins, but he quickly slowed himself way down when a large muscular African American man seemingly stepped out of nowhere and placed himself between Dean and the woman.

"I could ask you the same thing," Dean peeked over the massive man's shoulder at the woman in his living room. "You wanna tell this big mother fucker to take a step back?"

The woman rolled her eyes. "Relax, E. We're not going to hurt him if we don't have to."

The mountain of a man lowered his guard. He gave Ambrose a once over, scoffed and shook his head, then returned to the woman's side.

"You're Sonya Deville," Dean pointed out. "The whole city's looking for you when you disappeared after you lost to Baszler."

Sonya chuckled dryly. "Yeah, well I have a bigger fucking problem to deal with than some bitch in an octagon."

Ambrose nodded. "Right. What's with the walking Sherman tank?"

"That's E. He's a friend of mine," Sonya gestured at the hulking man to her right. "He doesn't talk much but he never really has to."

"Great. Why the fuck are you in my apartment?"

"Because we know who you are, Jon," Sonya answered. "It took a little while, but I've always been a persistent girl."

Dean tightened his grip around his blade. "The Bullet Club sent you to take me out, didn't they? I poked around a little too much and they caught on already, eh?"

Sonya shook her head. "No. I'd never associate with those pieces of shit. I'm here to learn what you know so I can take them down once and for all."

Dean chuckled. "You. You and the Hulk are going to take down the biggest domestic arms and drug dealing cartel? Just the two of you."

"You too. And that little blonde bitch from the other night."

Dean furrowed his brow. "And why the hell should I do that?"

"Allow me to introduce myself," a man, who Dean had not noticed until now, stepped out of the corner of the room to make his presence known. "I've been following your work very closely Mr Moxley. And I gotta say, I'm very impressed with what you can do."

"Ok... And who the hell are you?" Dean asked.

The man smirked. "I'm Chris Jericho. But you can call me Lionheart."


	8. Keep Your Eyes on Me

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Dean spat in the direction of the blonde man with a confused look on his face. On top of three strangers breaking into his apartment, now apparently one of them had a stupid nickname. Well, about as stupid a guy with his own made-up name hearing it anyway.

"Lionheart," Jericho repeated. "Ya know... I was a vigilante in the '90s just like you?"

Dean shook his head, sharing a confused look with Sonya. "I have no fucking idea who you are."

"I was Jon Moxley before some fuckhead kid was Jon Moxley," Jericho snapped. He quickly regained his composure and smiled again. "Look, you and I have a lot of beef with the Bullet Club. Kenny Omega? The Young Bucks? Hangman Page? I want them out of my city as much as the next guy."

"Rumors say they're dead," Ambrose pointed out.

"Yeah, well, rumors are fucking wrong," Sonya stepped in. "A friend of mine got jumped by a group of fuckers in masks. She swears to God it was the skull and assault rifles. So it's either the Bullet Club or we got a bigger problem to deal with here with wannabe mercs trying to act like the BC."

Ambrose shook his head. Not too long ago, he swore he put an end to the infamous faction. It started with a few drug busts and a blown-up abandoned warehouse and that was supposed to be that. And for years that was the last anyone had heard of the Bullet Club. Until very recently. And it was apparently on several people's radars.

"How did you find me?" Ambrose asked the room.

"Is that really what's important right now?" Sonya asked.

"Tell me right fucking now or you can forget about my help," Ambrose snapped.

"We've been watching you for a few weeks," Jericho spoke. "You almost managed to scrape by without me catching anything. But that little stage dive you took into the river led me right to your apartment. You should be lucky it wasn't anyone from the Bullet Club. Or worse, the cops."

"Fucking pigs would ruin everything," Sonya muttered with a head shake.

Sonya stepped towards the window towards the back of the room near the fire escape. E kept his spot near the kitchen, but his narrowed glare followed his apparent handler across the room.

"Isn't your step-dad John Cena?" Ambrose asked, earning a death stare from the MMA fighter. "As in, the biggest pain in my ass?"

Sonya didn't say anything. Her jaw clenched and her eyes flickered to the rain-soaked city outside.

"Why do you need me?" Ambrose asked Jericho. "Sounds to me like you're doing just fine with Tiny and the angriest fucking dyke I've ever met."

"Fuck you," Sonya muttered over her shoulder.

"You know about where they are more than the three of us," Jericho withdrew a small spiral notebook from his back pocket. "That shipment a few days ago at the docks was the first thing we caught in months. You caught on in a few days. It took me a few weeks to catch a hint. How did you know to be at the docks at that time?"

"I guess the boys go to Suplex City a lot. One of the dancers there tells me what she hears. She heard some shit about the boats coming in, I checked it, found a bunch of shit with the logo slapped on." Ambrose shook his head. "I still don't get what this has to do with the three of you breaking into my home. Did you expect us to be the fucking Avengers or something? Is Robert Downey Jr waiting for us downstairs?"

"Don't be fucking stupid," Sonya barked from the window. "This is real life. People's lives are in danger. If you're half the hero you claim to be, you'd stop your bitching and help us figure this out."

"But why an MMA fighter, a big black dude, and a washed-up version of Kick-Ass?" Ambrose asked.

"E's a Juggernaut," Sonya stepped away from the window and turned to Ambrose. "His family was gunned down by the BC when he was a kid. They caught him, cut his tongue out, then left him for dead. I already told you my friend was attacked by them. I'm not a super like E, but I'll do anything to protect my friends."

"He's a super?" Dean gestured at E with a frown. "You expect to trust the scum of the earth?"

E took a massive step towards Dean. Dean braced himself, his knife at the ready.

"Enough!" Jericho screamed, breaking the tension for the moment. "We can stand around here and measure our dicks another time. What we need to do right now is figure out where that Mindwalker is. Sonya, you said she works at Suplex City?"

"That's the last time I saw her," Sonya said.

"She lives a few blocks from here," Dean stated, still squaring up to E. "Followed her home. I know which apartment building she lives in."

"Ok, we can go there then," Jericho stated. "She might know more about the Bullet Club. Plus, Mindwalkers would be a huge asset to-"

"Dean?" Called a voice from the hallway outside the apartment. It was Bayley, Dean recognized right away as the color left his face.

Dean gave the massive man a once over. "Not a word," he told the other two. "It was hard enough telling her I was Moxley. I don't need to explain why the Mystery Men are in my apartment."

"You told her what?!" Jericho exclaimed.

Dean held an index finger over his lips and cracked the door open far enough to see the young woman in the hall, but kept it closed enough to keep her from seeing the others.

"Hi," Bayley chirped with a smile, a furry white pup in her arms. "I was going to take Bacon for a walk but I heard shouting. Is everything ok?"

Dean nodded his head. "All calm and collected here, Bay. Must've been the TV."

Bayley's eyes noticed how closed the door was. "Oh... your boss is here?" She asked, disappointment very clearly in her words.

Dean shook his head. "She went home earlier. It's just me. Why, did you need something?"

Bayley shrugged. "I just... I don't want you to date your boss. I think it's weird."

Dean snickered. "Bay, we just had sex a few times-"

"Then you'll go out with me?" The young woman's face lit up like her love interest had already said yes.

Dean hated letting people down. Especially the innocent and pure at heart like the girl in front of him. "Bay, we talked about this..."

"I don't understand it though," Bayley checked her surroundings and lowered her voice. "Does she know who you really are? What if bad people go after Zelina?"

"Bad people aren't going after Zelina." Dean insisted.

"Then why do you think they'll come after me?" Bayley's bottom lip quivered. "Am I not good enough for you?"

"Bay-"

"It's fine," Bayley, with tears welling up in her eyes, flashed a toothy smile and started backing away from the door. "I'll see you later, ok? I'm sorry I keep bothering you."

Without another word, not that she was going to give Dean the chance to defend himself, Bayley hurried down the stairs. Dean, sighing heavily, shut the door behind him and turned his attention back to the group of people in his home.

"You're quite the charmer," Sonya sarcastically commented, earning a smile and a grunt from E.

"Shut the fuck up," Dean shook his head. "Anyway, I don't need help taking down the Bullet Club. They can't be that far ahead already after being dead for years."

"They already have water shipments," Jericho pointed out. "Who knows how quickly they're moving now? And with Cody in their pocket, nobody can guess how massive they can get with his money and connections. God forbid he wins the election..."

"So we find the blonde chick and we're all supposed to do what?" Dean asked.

"We go from there," Jericho stated.

Dean crossed the room into his kitchen. He popped open his fridge and cracked open a bottle of beer. He took a long sip, draining the bottle, then reached for another.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Sonya barked.

Dean shook his head. "I don't want to do this, but if it keeps that big fucker from tearing me in half then I'll show you where she lives. But I don't want shit to do with any of you."

"You'll have to trust us eventually," Jericho said.

Dean chuckled dryly. "Trust. Sure. That'll fuckin' happen."

* * *

Dean led the ragtag group of apparent vigilantes to the last place he saw the girl they were all looking for. As they got closer to the apartment building, Dean's head started to throb. That was one of the side-effects of being controlled by a Mind-Walker, according to the research Dean did. Dean figured that's what was happening to Sonya when she started to rub the side of her head the second his mind started to throb.

"I'll go in alone," Dean told the others, stopping in front of the building. "She'll freak is she sees all of us together. It's better if she doesn't get through to one of us and we all end up killing each other."

"E's a Juggernaut though," Sonya pointed out.

"Well, this little shit turned one of him into a smoothie last week so I'm not taking any chances." Dean paused to slide on a pair of dark sunglasses. "Wish me luck. Just watch the front entrance in case she makes a run for it."

"Yell if you need anything," Jericho offered, taking a stance closer to the shadows to stay out of the light. "I and the big guy will keep the peace."

Ambrose stepped through the front entrance of the apartment building. He quickly scanned the lobby, looking for any sign of the woman he was after. Down the hall were a few separate apartments. To the left was a room, but the sign read "Management" so Dean could probably rule out Alexa living there. To his right was an idle desk with no one on duty and a small office just behind it.

"Find anything yet?" Sonya asked, wearing her own pair of sunglasses.

"What are you doing here?" Dean asked.

Sonya smirked. "Playing bad cop. That bitch has a kick in the head coming to her and I won't miss the chance if it's given to me."

Dean sauntered up to the front desk and rang the bell beside a "ring for service" sign. After a brief moment, a short pudgy woman with half-moon glasses emerged from the office. She waddled up to the desk and typed a few things on her computer.

"Look for residency?" The woman asked the two others.

Dean nodded. "Yes, my lesbian sister and I are looking for a place while she trains for the Women's Softball te-"

Sonya threw a hard fist into Dean's shoulder, making the man curse under his breath and rub the sore spot spreading throughout his arm.

The woman stared ahead with a blank expression. "You morons will have to do better than that."

Sonya narrowed her eyes. "Excuse me?"

"If you think for a moment that I'm coming down to speak to you, you have got to be the biggest jackasses on the planet," the old woman stated her tone as emotionless as her stare.

"What the fuck?" Dean muttered, shaking the feeling back into his arm.

"She's controlling the old lady," Sonya looked around the room. Above the management apartment entrance was a lone security camera aimed directly at the front desk. "There. But how the hell can she see us?"

"Places like this let residents watch the security feed," Dean explained. "My place is the same way."

"It also doesn't help when you four idiots walk down the street huddled together like rejected Justice League extras," Alexa said through the old woman.

"Look, Alexa, we need your help," Sonya told the old woman, though she was speaking to the girl controlling her. "We have bigger problems on our hands than a few misunderstandings from the other day. A very dangerous group is trying to find its footing again and we can't let that happen."

"Why don't you call the police like normal people?" The woman asked.

"And tell them what? That we have a hunch about this?" Dean stepped in. "The police are already looking for this one, and apparently the other two we're with aren't too popular either. And how long do you think I'll make it before they figure out who I am?"

"Why is this my problem?" Alexa asked.

"Because a lot of people are going to get hurt if you don't help us," Sonya said. "These are bad people and we can't let them come back. Your powers will help us out greatly."

The old woman shifted her gaze from Dean to Sonya several times. "What's in it for me?"

"We'll leave you alone," Dean promised. "All will be forgotten and we won't bother you anymore. The last thing you need is for us to keep coming back and bothering you when you have your mom to look after."

The old woman suddenly took a deep breath and almost fell over, but caught herself on the desk and stayed standing.

"Did you say something, sweetie?" The woman asked.

Dean and Sonya shared a look of confusion. Above their heads, a woman cleared her throat.

Alexa, looking over the banister from the next floor up, stared down at the two looking for her. "Let's talk," she simply stated before disappearing from sight.

Dean nodded at Sonya. "Got my six?"

Sonya followed Dean to the stairs. "Just keep your head on a swivel."

* * *

To say Alexa's expression was welcoming to Sonya and Dean would be an ugly lie. Alexa stood in the doorway of her apartment with her arms crossed and her face twisted in disgust. Dean rolled his eyes to the ceiling behind his sunglasses. Sonya just kept her eyes glued to the tiny troublemaker in case she tried to get smart and pull a fast one on them.

Dean and Sonya paused in front of the blonde dancer. "May we come in?" Ambrose asked sarcastically.

Alexa looked hard at Dean, then looked to Sonya next. "I need you guys to keep your voices down and your phones on silent," the blonde stated with less hostility than either Sonya or Dean expected. "My mom is trying to nap and I don't want any trouble. Got it?"

Sonya and Dean looked at each other, then back at Alexa and nodded. "Whatever you want," Sonya agreed.

Alexa held up her hand to stop Sonya and Dean from entering. "Shoes off, please." She instructed.

"Are you fu... I mean, yes, miss," Ambrose kicked his shoes off and set them near the door. Sonya did the same and followed the shorter girl into her apartment.

"Not too shabby," Dean commented, taking a look around the apartment. "Pretty modest for a millionaire."

"Better than your shithole," Sonya fired back calmly, making Alexa chuckle under her breath.

Alexa entered her living room. "Do you two need anything? Water, juice...?"

Dean shook his head. "Why are you being so nice all of a sudden. You would try to kill us if we came by two days ago."

Alexa gestured at the sofa and Dean and Sonya sat down. Alexa sat across from them on her own couch.

To the surprise of Sonya and Dean, Alexa's eyes started to water. The tiny girl wiped her eyes clear of tears and cleared her throat.

"The Bullet Club owns this building," Alexa revealed, lowering her voice as if anyone was listening to them. "I read their minds every time they come in here. I'm not sure who, but one of them has a room here. I don't know where, because I never have enough time to focus on them before they're heading upstairs. They know what I am and they know my mom is in rough shape so they're sympathetic towards me, but they don't trust me enough to not wear sunglasses inside. We've... pretty much silently agreed that I won't turn them in if they don't turn me in. I haven't said anything to the cops because I don't know what they'll do if they found out I did it."

"Are they here now?" Sonya asked.

Alexa shook her head. "No. They're never here during the day. Just late at night, then they leave early in the morning. I don't know what they do and I don't give a shit what it is. I just don't want to feel like I'm a liability and they hurt me or my mom."

"So they know you're a Super and they promised not to say anything as long as you keep your mouth shut?" Dean asked, making sure he had the story right.

Alexa nodded. "Yes. They gave me the only three-bedroom apartment. My rent is cheap as hell. They just ask for private shows at the club a lot. I do it, but I don't even dare try taking more money from them."

"Is Cody Rhodes with them?" Sonya asked.

Alexa looked Sonya directly in the eyes through her glasses. She slowly nodded her head. "He... makes me do things to him at the club. I don't want to, but when they know what you are and know you can't leave whenever you please because your mom is sick..."

Dean's jaw clenched. "I wanted to fucking kill that guy before, but now..."

"What else happens?" Sonya asked.

Alexa shook her head. "I don't want to say."

Sonya stood, removing her glasses. "Show me," she told Alexa, kneeling in front of her.

"Are you sure?" Alexa asked.

Sonya nodded. "Yes."

Alexa took a deep breath and set her hand on Sonya's forehead. Sonya grunted through gritted teeth and almost fell back. A brief few seconds later, Sonya jumped to her feet and ran to the kitchen. She threw up into the sink, gagging and coughing from the horrors she'd been shown.

"I can fucking taste it," Sonya growled, wiping the sick from her chin.

"How do you think I feel?" Alexa looked at Dean. "I want them dead as much as you do, Jon. But I can't risk them finding out I'm helping you."

Dean nodded. "Well don't let them find out. Stay here, take care of your mom. Just keep tabs for us, ok? I don't want anything to happen to you."

"It's like fucking motor oil and piss!" Sonya cursed from the kitchen.

Alexa furrowed her brow. "Is that Sonya Deville? The MMA fighter?"

"Apparently," Dean sighed. "Met her this morning when-"

"She broke into your apartment," Alexa nodded. "I know. I read her memory, remember?"

"Right," Dean scratched his head. "Is there anything else we can do for you? I can help you out with money if you-"

"I will break your legs into powder," Alexa tutted her tongue. "Besides, I know you'll be there later anyway to say hi to Nikki."

"Can you blame me?" Dean snickered.

Sonya returned to the living room, shaking her head and holding her head in her hands. "Can we go? We can talk on the way but I need to stop thinking about that fucking Republican douchebag bending me over a table-"

"Dude," Dean cut in.

Alexa got to her feet. "Here," the tiny woman held Sonya's head in place and kissed her softly on the lips. Sonya blinked, her eyes fogging over for a moment before standing straight up. "I wiped all memory of that from your head. You'll know it happened, but you can't feel it anymore."

"Why, uh..." Dean nodded at Sonya. "Why the kiss?"

"My powers work quicker through physical contact," Alexa explained. "Looking you in the eyes works too, but it's not as effective as me touching you."

"So a handshake would've gotten the job done?" Dean asked with a smirk.

Alexa's cheeks tinted a light shade of pink. "I think it's time you both left."

"I don't judge," Dean said, raising his hands in front of himself. "I'm apparently a rejected Avenger with ironfists over here now, so I'll have to put up with it."

Sonya paused when she got to the door. "Thanks for leaving the taste of your mom's cookies," she told the smaller woman. "I'll have to come back to try them when she gets better."

Alexa bit her lip, twirling her hair with her finger and gave the brunette a wink. The door closed and Sonya smiled to herself as she slid her sunglasses back on.

Dean shook his head. "How is it that we come here for information and you're the one that gets lucky?"

"Wooing women is my superpower," Sonya stated with a smirk.

"That's not a thing..." Dean paused. "Right?"

Sonya let out a single laugh and returned to the staircase. Dean, shaking his head for what felt like the two-hundredth time that day, followed Sonya to inform the others of what they learned from Alexa.


End file.
